


Your crown lights the way

by magenta



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Canonical Character Death, Community: paperlegends, Flashbacks, M/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magenta/pseuds/magenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Merlin! Where have you been?” Arthur, oh god it was Arthur, charged down the hall at him, looking every bit the young king Merlin had watched die so many lifetimes ago. His hair fell shaggy across his forehead, his eyes were flashing with confusion and frustration, and Merlin was pretty sure his heart was going to explode. Arthur reached him and stopped dead, as if he was finally seeing him, and looked him up and down. “What <b>are</b> you wearing, Merlin? And why are you smiling at me like that?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your crown lights the way

**Author's Note:**

> Written for paperlegends 2013.
> 
> Extra special thanks to my beta and cheerleader janescott! This story definitely wouldn't exist without her help. Second thanks go to our team of excellent cheerleaders, etharei, xsilverdreamsx and bookgazing, who pulled me out of numerous holes to get to the end of this. Thank you all!
> 
> Title is paraphrased from "King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men
> 
> Also check out the wonderful art created by dylan_mx, here: http://dylan-mx.livejournal.com/20666.html Thank you too!

**_Merlin_**

Merlin didn't know how long it had been since Arthur had left him. If he thought about it, he could probably figure it out, but imagining all those hundreds of years between them, the hundreds of years that Merlin had walked alone, desperately searching for any sign of Arthur’s return..well, if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably go insane, so he tried to just get on with his life. And his life right now was exceedingly boring, but he didn’t mind. He’d lived through plenty of excitement, both the good and the bad, and sometimes it was nice to have a quiet few years to just live. His watch beeped at him and he sighed, pushing himself off of his threadbare sofa after draining the last mouthful of lukewarm tea, screwing up his face a little at the taste of escaped leaves in his mouth. He reached for the control, catching something on the television about an upheaval in the government. He caught a glimpse in the corner of his eye, something or someone familiar, but it was gone when he turned back to face the television. He flicked off the screen and tossed the remote onto the couch, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders. It was the first day of school, and even after all these years, history went on even if Merlin wasn’t there to teach it.

The morning went by in a familiar blur, a parade of kids in and out of his classroom, some bleary-eyed and miserable, some excited and ready to learn. He had repeated his “I’m Mr. Emrys and history is important so eyes front” speech enough times that he could do it in his sleep, and he suspected he probably did. He did love teaching though, telling a new crop of kids every year all about the things he’d seen and experienced, safely couched in the rigid curriculum, of course. He tended to leave out stories of dragons and magic from his lessons, even if they’d probably get the slackers in the back row to sit up and pay attention. He’d tried being a Literature teacher a few times, because he really did love to read, but he had a hard time putting aside the time he met a very intoxicated Will Shakespeare in a pub and the bard had vomited all over Merlin’s shoes. The man was certainly a great playwright, but just the thought of him still made Merlin’s nose wrinkle. And then there was the issue of Arthur and his _legend_. He knew that their lives had been fantastical, and maybe if he hadn’t lived it himself he’d be disinclined to believe it, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of teaching that the man who was still the most important person he’d ever met was little more than a myth. Merlin shook those thoughts from his head and smiled as his next class walked into the room, feet dragging on the floor as they mumbled responses to his purposefully over-exuberant greeting. 

By the time lunch rolled around, Merlin’s stomach was growling and he was ready for a break. He’d also heard some of the girls tittering, talking not quietly enough behind their hands about new teachers who were apparently very fit, and he had to admit he was curious. Though he was really hundreds of years old if you thought about it, to look at him, Merlin still looked to be no more than 30, which put him a good 20 years behind most of the other teachers. It might be fun to have some new blood around. 

“Merlin!” Edward, the science teacher waved him over as soon as he walked into the staff room. “Grab your lunch and come sit, you should meet Mr. Greene and Mr. Armstrong.”

Merlin grinned and nodded, grabbing his sandwich from the fridge and making his way over to the table. He could see the backs of the new teachers, and even from behind he knew that the one with the glossy hair must be the new drama teacher, and the one with the giant arms sticking out of his sleeveless shirt must be the new PE teacher.

“Merlin Emrys, this is Mr. Greene, he’s our new drama teacher.” The man with the glossy hair stood and smiled widely at Merlin, sticking his hand out and it took every ounce of self-control Merlin had not to drop his sandwich on the floor. 

“Only the students have to call me that, name’s Gwaine.” He tossed his head, his hair settling back down around his face and it was with a dry mouth that Merlin smiled awkwardly, taking Gwaine’s hand and just hoping his wasn’t too sweaty.

Merlin was sure he looked shell-shocked, but any hope he had of not coming across like an idiot in this moment was shot when he turned his attention to Mr. Armstrong, who was currently towering above him.

“And I’m Percival, but most of my friends call me Percy.” His handshake was firm, and his smile was kind, and Merlin’s heart was hammering inside his chest so hard he was sure they could see it through his shirt.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you, Gwaine. And Percy.” Merlin sat down heavily, really more collapsing than anything. He blinked again and again, like maybe the next time he opened his eyes his world would make sense again, but nope. He was sitting here, in the staff room of the school where he’d worked for three years, sitting across from two knights of Arthur’s round table who’d been dead for centuries who had no idea who he was. Merlin wasn’t sure what it meant, and he was afraid to think about what he truly hoped it meant.

“Merlin, how about you, you play footy?” Gwaine was grinning at him, easy and honest as ever, and even though he was still freaking out, the sight of that grin made Merlin relax in a way few things had in centuries and he returned it gladly.

“A bit, but I’m a much better spectator.” 

Gwaine swallowed a mouthful of tuna sandwich and tossed an arm around Percy’s shoulder, like they were old friends. A lump formed in Merlin’s throat unbidden, and he swallowed around it. “Well, Percy here has already agreed to come play with me and my mates next weekend, why don’t you come check it out? Whether you play or watch, there’s a pint or three in it for you at the end.”

Merlin shrugged, smiling. “Just tell me when and where, sounds like a good time.” 

Gwaine whooped and reached over the table to clap Merlin on the shoulder, and to Merlin, that touch felt like the exhale after holding your breath. He gave himself over to the conversation after that, pushing the meaning of this moment to the back of his mind and just drinking in being with Percival and Gwaine again, even if for now they only knew him as the awkward history teacher down the hall. It was enough.

Merlin found it considerably easier to get out of bed after his meeting with Gwaine and Percy, even arriving to school earlier than 3 minutes before the first bell. There was a part deep down inside him that was worried he’d imagined the whole thing, dreamed it up because he just wanted it to be true. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d made up signs of Arthur’s return. He cringed thinking of the times he’d chased a broad-shouldered, blond stranger around street corners, always muttering that he was sorry, but he’d thought they were someone else as he stumbled away, disappointed again. But he wasn’t disappointed this time, Gwaine’s too-bright-for-morning smile greeting him as Percy’s hand clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to rock a little on his feet from the force.

“Morning, Merlin. Here, I brought these.” Gwaine thrust a box full of delightfully iced and sprinkled donuts in front of Merlin, and he just barely managed to hold back a little moan as he reached for a chocolate one that he hoped had cream filling. Of all the eras he’d lived through, the delicious-but-bad-for-you food was by far the best in this one.

“Thanks,” Merlin mumbled through a mouthful of pastry, smiling as he fumbled with one hand to pour himself a cup of coffee. He swallowed and took a sip of the terrible staff room coffee, setting it down to focus on enjoying his donut. “So, how was your first day?”

Gwaine shrugged, taking a big bite of his own donut and licking red jelly off his lips. “Pretty standard really. Drama classes are always half kids looking for an easy mark, and half kids who think they’re just one soliloquy away from the Royal Shakespeare Company.” He paused for a moment, as if thinking. “I doubt any of this lot would be able to make it through a soliloquy but it’s early days yet. Plus, I always enjoy the way the girls blush and giggle when I walk into a room, makes me feel like I’ve still got it.” A cocky, yet somehow sincere grin spread across Gwaine’s face, and both Percy and Merlin laughed, with Percy reaching out to knock Gwaine’s shoulder.

“Gwaine, they’re teenagers!” Despite the morning chill, Percy was again wearing nothing more than shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, but Merlin took a weird kind of comfort in that.

Gwaine shrugged, his smile softening a little at the edges. “I saw them all looking at you too you know, Mr Universe. Even the boys can’t keep their eyes off those things.” He reached out and poked one of Percy’s biceps, a look of appreciation passing across his face.

Percy flushed, shrugging his shoulders and taking a swallow of his coffee. “Anyways,” he said a little more loudly and pointedly than was strictly necessary, “Merlin, what about you? How long have you been teaching?”

Merlin shrugged, his lip quirking up in a bit of a wry smile. “Sometimes it feels like forever. Been at this school for five years though.” He licked the last of the donut crumbs off his fingers and wiped them dry on his trousers. “It’s nice to have some new blood around here though, I don’t exactly have much in common with Mrs Bailey over there.” He gestured to the woman hanging her coat up in the corner, looking every bit the stereotypical schoolmarm, her greying hair pulled back in a tight bun that only accentuated the scowl on her face. The three of them snickered behind their coffee mugs, dropping their faces even more when Mrs Bailey turned that scowl in their direction before putting her nose in the air and walking swiftly from the room.

 

“Christ, she’s something, isn’t she?” Gwaine’s eyes still sparkled with mirth as he raked a hand through his hair. Merlin thought maybe Percy’s gaze lingered a bit long at the way Gwaine’s hair curled around his face, but his thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of the bell.

“See you at lunch then?” Merlin rinsed his coffee cup in the sink and slung his bag over his shoulder, heading for the door.

“I’ll save you a seat with me and the big man.” Gwaine grinned and threw his arm around Percy’s shoulder, making it look easier even if he had to go up on his toes a little to do it. Merlin returned the smile and headed to class with a bit of a bounce in his step. Maybe he could actually make the kids care about history today. He doubted it, but he didn’t let that spoil his good mood.

 

The next two weeks went by in an easy blur. Merlin had sort of lost his grasp of time moving quickly or slowly a long time ago, but he was pretty sure time was moving just a little faster and smoother now. He woke up the morning of the football match to a gorgeous sunny day, unseasonably warm, and he actually found himself whistling as he walked down his street, squinting at the little piece of paper with directions to the park where Gwaine played. He heard Gwaine before he saw him, his laugh carrying well across the park, and Merlin sped up a little as he neared the playing field.

“Merlin! You came!” Gwaine jogged over and clapped Merlin on the shoulder before drawing him in for a quick hug.

“You promised me a pint and a teacher never turns down a pint.” Merlin grinned, going easily when Gwaine pulled him along.

“And I always keep my promises.” They reached the pitch, and Merlin waved at Percy who was bouncing a ball from foot to foot, making it look at easy as walking. “Here, let me introduce you to some of the guys.”

Merlin smiled and shook hands with Gwaine’s friends who all seemed just as bright and friendly as him. He introduced himself to each in turn, trying most likely pointlessly to remember everyone’s names, looking up when he heard a shouted greeting from across the park. He nearly fell down where he stood when he saw the last member of the team jogging across the park, gym bag slung easily across his chest. 

“Lance, there you are! Come meet Merlin and Percy!” Gwaine waved him over, and Merlin could hear the blood pounding in his ears as Lance got closer, and yep, there he was. Sir Lancelot was standing in front of him, alive and well, shaking Percy’s hand with a smile crinkling his dark eyes. Merlin’s heart hammered against his ribcage like a trapped rabbit, and for as much as he has spent millennia searching for signs of Arthur’s return, he’d really like a break to catch his breath, thank you.

“Merlin, Gwaine’s told me a lot about you.” Lance’s warm voice pulled Merlin out of his head, and Merlin looked at him a little sideways.

“Really? He’s barely known me two weeks, what’s he told you?”

Lance laughed, familiar and wonderful. “Gwaine’s pretty good at reading people, two weeks is plenty of time for him to know you’ll be mates for life.” Merlin’s heart clenched a little at that, but he thought he hid it pretty well. “He said you’re a real wizard with history, there’s nothing you don’t know.”

Merlin couldn’t help but grin at that, turning to look at Gwaine who gave him a shrug. “Well, I don’t know about that, but remind me to use him as a reference for my next job.” 

Someone blew a whistle, and Lance glanced around before turning back to Merlin. “You playing?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, everyone’s safer if I keep my limbs on the bench I think, I’m just here because I was promised a pint or three.”

Lance nodded, his eyes bright. “That’s why Gwaine’s a good friend, he’s terrible with his money and loves spending it getting his friends pissed. See you later then?”

Merlin nodded as he watched Lance jog backwards onto the pitch, and settled in to watch three of the knights of Camelot play football. Three of the knights of Camelot, playing football. Nope, it was still strange no matter how many times he said it, but they really were quite good at it so he perched on the edge of the bench and cheered as loud as he can and clapped until his hands were stinging. He was going to make sure he deserved those pints.

It was still the middle of the day when the guys came jogging off the pitch, sweaty and red-faced, but no one even suggested heading anywhere but the pub. Merlin cringed a little when Gwaine pulled him close, nestling him under his sweaty arm, but Gwaine just chuckled and pulled him closer. “Come on, Merlin, you’ll like this place, one of my mates owns it. He doesn’t give me a discount, but he usually saves us a big table in the back for after our matches, you can sit next to me.”

“Do I have to?” Merlin tried to hold back a smile as he screwed up his face, wrinkling his nose.

Gwaine gasped, holding a hand over his heart. “You wound me, sir. Just for that, I’m buying you an extra pint as punishment.”

Merlin laughed, and let Gwaine pull him back in, and the group of them generally made a huge commotion as they walked the rest of the way to the pub.

 

The pub was as raucous as Merlin expected it to be, packed to the rafters with football fans alternately cheering and booing at the televisions hanging from the ceiling. True to Gwaine’s word though, a large table in the back of the pub was roped off, and handwritten sign propped in the middle that read “Reserved for Gwaine and his Merry Men.” They all slid in, laughing as they tripped over chairs and nearly upended the whole table before everyone finally had a seat. Merlin found himself sandwiched on a long bench between Gwaine and Lance, and Gwaine had one arm over Merlin’s shoulders, the other wrapped around Percy on his other side. Merlin couldn’t help but wonder if Gwaine always made friends this quickly, or if somewhere deep in his brain, he was remembering.

Merlin was shaken from his thoughts by the arrival of a girl weighed down with more pints than it looked like she should be able to carry. She smiled brightly and set down the drinks.

“El took the liberty of putting these on your tab, Gwaine. If you’re going to claim his best table, you better be drinking, he says.”

Gwaine laughed and started handing out glasses, until everyone had one in front of them. “Tell El to keep ‘em coming, yeah? Wouldn’t want my friends to go thirsty.” Gwaine clanged his glass noisily against Merlin’s, and Merlin absently wondered if Gwaine had somehow managed to already sneak a pint.

The waitress rolled her eyes, still smiling. “I brought this round, you gotta come get the rest.”

“Oh, I’ll come get it.” Gwaine waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, looking a bit like a cartoon.

She laughed again and lobbed a wadded up napkin from her apron, hitting Gwaine square in the forehead with the kind of accuracy that only comes from lots of practice. “Drink your beer, Gwaine,” she tossed over her shoulders as she headed back to the bar.

Gwaine picked up his pint and everyone followed suit, pausing in their own conversations to turn to him. “A toast! To new friends,” he wrapped his arm tighter around Percy’s shoulder and grinned down at Merlin, “and a bloody great football game!”

The whole group cheer, clapping their hands against the table and drinking deeply. Merlin tipped back his pint, sighing internally as he swallowed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a pint in a pub, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

Conversation flowed easily at first, and even easier once their glasses been refilled once or twice. Merlin learned that Lance was a nurse at a local hospital, and he’d met Gwaine when Gwaine had come into A&E with a broken wrist courtesy of a drunken fall off a table. He’d tried to show Lance just how sexy he’d been dancing by climbing up on the gurney, and even as Lance tried to get him down, he was laughing so hard he couldn’t help but accept Gwaine’s number and invite to play footy as soon as Gwaine’s wrist healed.

Merlin was nearly choking on his laughter at the story, imagining Gwaine swivelling his hips for Lance and remembering a long ago night around a fire after they’d come across a troupe of travelling performers and Gwaine had tried to imitate their dancing, much to the amusement of the rest of the knights.

Beside him, Gwaine was pressed up against Percy’s side, tucked underneath his giant arm. Percy’s fingers were playing absently with Gwaine’s hair, and Merlin was fairly sure he could hear Gwaine pressing wet, open kisses to Percy’s shoulder or wherever else he could reach. Merlin raised his eyebrows and caught Percy’s eye, who gave him a sloppy smile, winking and tugging on Gwaine’s hair just hard enough to make him sigh.

“Well, that’s new,” Lance mused behind Merlin.

“Oh? What do you mean?” Merlin turned back to him, quizzical.

“Not men, Gwaine’s always been up for a good time, gender notwithstanding -” Merlin couldn’t help but grin at that and how familiar it sounded - “but that’s all a bit..tender for the Gwaine I know.” Lance drained his pint and smiled kind of softly. “It’s nice to see though. Percy seems like a good guy.”

Merlin turned back to see Percy’s fingers carding softly through Gwaine’s hair even as he bent to press a soft kiss to Gwaine’s forehead. Gwaine tipped his head up and grinned loosely, meeting Percy’s lips in a kiss that quickly became filthy enough to cause groans and shouts of “Hey, get a room!” to erupt from the table. Merlin laughed along with the rest of them as Gwaine clearly took the shouts as a challenge.

Somehow managing to climb onto Percy’s lap, one knee on either side of Percy’s hips on the bench. He grabbed Percy’s face in both hands and kissed him full on, and from his vantage point Merlin could see Percy’s cheeks flush red even as he wrapped his hands around Gwaine’s waist, holding him tight.

Amidst the catcalling and cheering, Merlin heard an oddly familiar voice rise above the rest. “Oi, Gwaine! Are you causing another sex riot in my pub?”

At this point, Merlin really should’ve seen this coming, shouldn’t have been surprised to see Elyan sidling up to their table, a full tray of beer in his hands, but that didn’t stop his mouth from hanging open. He was getting sick of meeting people looking like a complete dolt, so he lifted his glass and look a long swallow of beer to settle himself a little.

Beside him, Gwaine laughed, climbing only far enough off of Percy’s lap to allow himself to turn and face Elyan. “Elyan! What’s a Saturday without a sex riot, eh? Those beers on you?” Gwaine reached for two of the glasses, handing one to Percy, and slopping at least half of his over the table.

“Put ‘em on your tab, that’s why you’re my best customer.” Elyan grinned, pulling up a chair and grabbing a glass, reaching out to tap the edge of Gwaine’s. “Who’s this lovely gentleman, then? Don’t think I’ve seen him...under you before.”

Percy snaked an arm around Gwaine to shake Elyan’s hand, the other arm still wrapped tight around Gwaine’s waist. “I’m Percy, Gwaine and I work together, with Merlin here.” He nodded at Merlin with a smile on his face, and Merlin stuck out his hand too, shaking Elyan’s hand what he hoped was firmly, but probably wasn’t.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Elyan and I own this place. Your friend here keeps me in business, even if he causes nearly as much trouble as he’s worth,” Elyan teased, eyes bright with mirth.

A wide grin stretched across Gwaine’s face as he leaned across the table, fisting his hand in the front of Elyan’s shirt and dragging him up and in for a loud, wet kiss right on the lips. “You love me,” he said, matter-of-factly.

Elyan shrugged and wiped his hand across his lips, still smiling. “I do, you bastard. I swear you’re magic or something.”

Gwaine settled back next to Percy with a smug look on his face, curling into him like a cat when Percy wrapped his arm back around Gwaine’s shoulders and twined his fingers back into Gwaine’s hair. “There’s no such thing as magic, El, I’m just so beautiful people can’t help but love me.” A burst of laughter rang out around the table, but Merlin couldn’t help but smirk when no one even tried to disagree. Gwaine certainly did have a way with people, always had. Charm and an easy smile went a long way, no matter the century. 

Conversations bubbled around him, and Merlin was happy to just listen, drifting from one to the other whenever someone called his name, asking an opinion on a film or occasionally to settle a bet with the kind of knowledge only a History teacher (or an immortal warlock) would have. Beside him, Gwaine and Percy gradually dropped out of the conversation entirely, wrapped up in each other, Gwaine’s lips pressed to Percy’s neck and Percy’s hands spanning the width of Gwaine’s back. Merlin couldn’t help but look at them a little softly, which probably made him look even drunker than he felt, watching two men neck in a pub with the same look one might have when watching a basket of kittens play. 

He lifted his glass and drained it again, his head feeling foggy; he’d definitely crossed the line to full-on drunk, though he wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened. He set the glass down and nudged Lance apologetically. “Think I’m going to head home, been a long time since I’ve drank like this.” Lance’s eyes looked a bit glassy, the flush high on his cheeks telling Merlin that he was just as far gone. He slid down the bench so Merlin could get out, actually hugging him goodbye, and Merlin accepted it gratefully, even if he was a little surprised. “Tell them I said goodbye, yeah? Don’t think they even realize anyone else is still here.” He gestured to Gwaine and Percy, who he was just really happy to say were both still fully clothed.

Lance chuckled, swaying a little on his feet, and yeah, Merlin knew how that felt. “Sure will. Was nice meeting you, Merlin. Will we see you back next weekend?”

Merlin nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to have to work on my tolerance though, think my students will mind if I start drinking during their lessons?”

“They may pay more attention if you start ranting and raving, definitely something to consider,” Lance said, with an impressively straight face.

Merlin laughed and bid him goodbye again, and made the long and wobbly trek through the pub and out into the cooling evening. The cool air felt good on his hot face and he decided to walk, thinking that by the time he got to his flat his head would’ve stopped spinning a bit. Though truthfully, the spinning had as much to do with meeting Lance and Elyan as it did with the pints. As overwhelming as the last two weeks had been, he could hardly wait to see what came next. 

 

It took a couple of days, but Merlin eventually stopped looking over his shoulder, expecting Arthur to be waiting for him around the next bend. He settled into a new rhythm, a welcome one, filling his free time with friends and fun instead of crap telly (or sometimes in addition to; Gwaine loved chat shows, the cheesier the better) and not much else. It sounded pathetic when he said it out loud, so he tried not to, but he hadn’t really had real friends in centuries, hadn’t wanted to get close to people only to watch them grow old and die, when he never would. He’d learned that lesson not long after he’d lost Arthur, when he’d let himself fall in love, a stupid, naive decision. Even now, he still remembered watching the light go out behind Thomas’ eyes, so much like it had been with Arthur, and Merlin had vowed to never do it again. And he hadn’t, keeping everyone he met at a distance, to keep both himself and them from getting hurt. It was amazing how just a few short weeks back with the men he still thought of as “Arthur’s knights” could erase centuries of loneliness. He’d forgotten what it felt like not to be lonely, and it felt pretty good.

Most nights after work found Merlin eating Chinese takeaway with Gwaine and Percy, the two of them curled together on Merlin’s threadbare sofa, sharing a box of noodles in a way that would make Merlin’s teeth hurt if it didn’t make him so absurdly happy. Friday’s always meant hitting the pub with Lance and Elyan, the group of them piling into a booth to drink beer, complain about their weeks, and try to ignore Gwaine’s tongue down Percy’s throat or his hands down the back of Percy’s pants. Not one of them was surprised when after just over a month, Gwaine and Percy announced they were giving up their flats and moving into a new one together. Merlin, Lance and Elyan even helped, doing most of the work as Percy hefted Gwaine up onto _their_ kitchen counter to get a start on making sure there wasn’t a single flat surface in the flat that you’d want to touch or set a sandwich down on. Gwaine bought everyone enough pizza and beer to bring down an army as a thank you though, so it wasn’t all bad. 

They even got Merlin out onto the pitch, and with Lance’s help in particular, Merlin discovered he wasn’t quite as abysmal at football as he’d thought. Sure, he still sometimes felt like he had too many limbs for his body, but he was fast and he’d even managed to score a goal or two against Percy, and that was like kicking the ball through a brick wall.

The pub on Saturdays had probably become the highlight of Merlin’s week. He’d come to crave the noise and the bustle, and the way Elyan called him over as soon as he stepped through the door, coming around the bar to pull him in for a fierce hug. It was easier for Merlin to dive into the conversation now, to tease and joke with the rest of them and bang a knife against his pint glass when Gwaine gave up trying to be proper and climbed into Percy’s lap, which happened earlier and earlier every week. Last week, he hadn’t even had a sip before Percy was dragging him in, and Gwaine went more than willing. They were all friends now, real friends making new memories, and Merlin found himself aching less and less for the old memories as time moved forward. He still dreamed of Arthur almost every night, but the dreams had slowly changed. Merlin no longer woke up in a cold sweat after failing once again to save Arthur, having to watch him die over and over, but instead he dreamt of Arthur’s smile, his laugh, the way he would tease Merlin mercilessly for waiting for him for all these years, even as he secretly grinned and thanked Merlin with a squeeze to his shoulder. Now Merlin woke up with a smile on his face, finally confident for the first time in centuries that he was in the place and time where he was meant to be.

It was early one Sunday morning when Merlin was woken up by a ruckus in the hallway outside his flat. He could hear a man shouting, and another trying to calm him, and Merlin could swear he heard his name. Just as he swung his legs out of bed and stepped into a pair of sweats, Merlin heard a knock on his door. He cursed under his breath, because this couldn’t possibly be anything good and padded towards his door. He didn’t see anything when he looked through his peephole, but he could still hear whoever it was in the hallway so he cracked the door open and peeked. His heart stopped in his chest and he almost forgot how to breath when he saw two men, going into the apartment next door, and he slammed the door shut again, leaning heavily against it.

“No,” Merlin muttered to himself. “No, no, it can’t be. No.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, jumping when there was another knock on the door.

“Um, hello? Does Merlin live here?” The voice on the other side of the door was tentative but oh so familiar, and Merlin steeled himself, opening the door slowly. He looked up and was met with a kind smile, crinkly eyes and curly ginger hair and Merlin’s heart jackhammered in his chest.

“Hi, we haven’t met, but I’m Leon and I just moved into the flat next door.” Leon looked down the hall with a worried look on his face, then back to Merlin. “This is a weird way to meet, but, um. I was coming back from the shops just now, and there was a man standing in the middle of the street shouting your name, and I remembered the landlord saying you lived here, so I brought him into my flat?” He raked his hand through his hair and looked obviously concerned. Merlin couldn’t blame him; he’d just brought what was potentially a raving madman into his apartment as a favour for the stranger next door.

But Merlin himself could barely speak, his mouth gone bone-dry. “This man, what does he look like?”

“Well, he’s blond, and he’s dressed like he belongs at a renaissance faire.” A little smile curved Leon’s lips, and Merlin tried to return it.

“Could you...could you bring him over? I’m pretty sure I know who that is.” Merlin searched Leon’s face for any signs of recognition, but he mostly just looked kind, confused and more than a little relieved.

“Sure, I’ll go get him.”

What followed were the longest thirty seconds of Merlin’s very long life. He watched as Leon walked the few metres to his flat, and could hear shouting as soon as Leon opened the door. Merlin tried to prepare himself, both for the possibility that it was Arthur in there and for the possibility that it wasn’t. He looked down at his ill-fitting sweats and giant t-shirt from his school and wished he was wearing something else, but he just squared his shoulders and tried to breathe. Finally, _finally_ , Leon stepped back into the hall and gestured towards Merlin. “There he is, is that who you were looking for?”

“Merlin! Where have you been?” Arthur, oh god it was Arthur, charged down the hall at him, looking every bit the young king Merlin had watched die so many lifetimes ago. His hair fell shaggy across his forehead, his eyes were flashing with confusion and frustration, and Merlin was pretty sure his heart was going to explode. Arthur reached him and stopped dead, as if he was finally seeing him, and looked him up and down. “What _are_ you wearing, Merlin? And why are you smiling at me like that?”

Merlin couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in his chest or the tears that started streaming down his face. He reached out and grabbed Arthur tight around the neck and pulled him in, holding tight and babbling nonsense into his shoulder. He managed to thank Leon and wave him back into his flat, wondering in the back of his mind if Leon remembered now, or if he would, and dragged Arthur into his own flat, shutting the door firmly behind him. He presse Arthur back against the door and just held him there, looking at him with disbelieving eyes.

“You’re real. My god, you’re really finally here, aren’t you?” Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair, traced them over Arthur’s face, and down Arthur’s body, feeling the solidness of his chest underneath the many layers of fabric and mail covering him. God, dressed like this and raving like he was, Arthur was lucky he hadn’t been arrested, especially considering the large sword strapped to his hip. Merlin gave in to the laughter again, pressing his face into Arthur’s chest.

“What are you talking about, Merlin? Of course I’m here, you’re blubbering all over me.” But Arthur’s voice was softening, and his hands crept up Merlin’s back to hold him tighter and Merlin thought he could sense them shaking, just a bit, though he’d never mention it.

Merlin pulled back and wiped his face, but he refused to stop touching Arthur, not just yet. “Arthur. Sire. You’ve been gone a long time. A very long time. We should probably talk.”

Arthur’s brow wrinkled a bit, and he looked at Merlin, and then around Merlin’s flat. “I’ve been...gone?”

Merlin nodded, and dropped his hand to tangle his fingers with Arthur’s and squeeze. “I’ll tell you everything, but first. Are you hungry? Would you like get cleaned up? We should...also probably get you in some clothes other than those. People don’t wear a lot of chainmail here.” Merlin couldn’t stop grinning, the fingers on his other hand toying with the straps and buckles of Arthur’s clothes.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, thinking for a moment. “I think I would like a bath, and then you’ll explain everything?” As Arthur calmed down and really looked at where he was, Merlin could see the confusion growing. He knew it wouldn’t be a simple explanation or a fun one, but still, he felt something deep inside him that was eager to tell Arthur his story.

As Merlin ran Arthur’s bath, Arthur hovered behind him marvelling at the hot water that was filling the bath. Merlin’s hands shook a little as he helped Arthur out of his armour and the clothing underneath, his fingers remembering the motion to flip open each buckle and untie every lace as if he’d last done it yesterday, and not centuries ago. He folded each item as he took it off out of habit, setting aside Arthur’s dusty boots, stacking his shirt on top of his breeches, arranging each piece of armour carefully. If it wasn’t for how they were in the middle of Merlin’s sterile, bog-standard bathroom, he would swear they were back in Camelot in Arthur’s rooms, with the soft flickers of lamplight instead of the harsh bulbs above Merlin’s sink.

Arthur groaned as Merlin helped him step into the bath, settling gratefully into the hot water. Merlin desperate to know what Arthur had been through, and how he’d gotten here today, but he buried that for now, reaching for a washcloth and a bar of soap. He hesitated for a moment, holding the soap and cloth out to Arthur. “Did you...shall I help?”

There was a beat of silence, and Arthur locked eyes with Merlin, cocking his head as he considered. “I think...yes, Merlin, please.”

They both fell silent again as Merlin knelt next to the tub, dunking the washcloth and soap under the water and working up a lather. He swept the cloth over Arthur’s skin in practiced, familiar motions, across the broad expanse of his back, the solidness of his chest. His fingers ached to do more, to touch him _more_ , but now wasn’t the time, as much as Merlin wanted it to be. He cleaned down Arthur’s arms and between his fingers, then reaching beneath the water to lift Arthur’s feet out. He let his fingers dig into the muscles of Arthur’s calves just a bit, and Arthur groaned softly, leaning back in the water. The soap made Merlin’s hands slip easily over Arthur’s skin, and at Arthur’s encouragement he gave in to his wanting, just a little, spreading his fingers out over Arthur’s strong thighs, washing them even as his thumbs brushed over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

Arthur sighed at that, his legs falling as wide apart as the tub would let them, and Merlin looked up at him with a grin. “Later, Sire. This really was meant to get you clean.”

“You always were a terrible manservant, Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was light with amusement, and Merlin’s heart skipped a bit at the sound. He pinched Arthur’s thigh just to hear him yelp, and went back to washing him, letting his hands roam a bit more than before now that he knew Arthur was wanting as badly as Merlin was.

He dunked Arthur’s head under the water and took his time scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. Arthur’s hair was fine and soft and it slipped delightfully between his fingers, and Merlin shamelessly savoured the feeling. Arthur harrumphed a bit at the floral scent of Merlin’s shampoo, but one of Merlin’s favourite things about living here and now was the plethora of lotions and potions you could just buy in the store, without having to crush a single herb or flower yourself, so Arthur was going to have to deal if he was sticking around. Merlin’s fingers stopped moving for a moment as he rinsed Arthur’s hair, because of course Arthur was sticking around, Merlin would make absolutely certain he never lost Arthur again.

Merlin left Arthur to dry himself off and dug through his dresser looking for something that might fit Arthur. He returned with a pair of jogging bottoms that had always been too big and a t-shirt he was fairly certain belonged to Percy. He couldn’t help but bite his lip when he saw Arthur standing there, naked and confident as always, toweling his hair dry, little droplets of water still running down his chest. Centuries ago, Merlin would’ve had nothing to compare this to, no context, but now he had hundreds of films and men in magazines filling his head, and for his money, Arthur still had them beat. His body still bore the scars of all his battles, and Merlin could see the ghosts of bruises that were nearly faded. His chest ached at the sight of the still angry scar just under Arthur’s ribs where Mordred’s blade had killed him. Whatever magic has brought Arthur back to him hadn’t erased everything he’d been through, physically at least. Merlin gave in to the impulse to close the distance between them, setting the clothes on the counter and reaching out to trace his fingers over that scar.

“What do you remember, Sire?” Merlin kept his voice soft, rubbing his thumb rhythmically over Arthur’s scar.

Arthur wrinkled his brow, raking his hand through his damp hair. “I’m honestly not sure. What I remember doesn’t make sense with what’s happening now.”

Merlin nodded, regretfully taking his hand away from Arthur’s skin to help him dress. “I’ll make some tea and we can talk about it, yeah? You tell me what you remember, and I’ll fill in what I can.”

Ten minutes later, Merlin was sitting on his sofa across from the legendary King Arthur, who was clad in ill-fitting sports wear, his hands wrapped around a chipped mug Merlin had bought at a secondhand shop. It was an odd picture to be sure, but Merlin was coming to love odd. He sipped his tea and waited, letting Arthur gather his thoughts, not wanting to pry. It was several minutes before Arthur finally spoke, but neither of them were in a hurry.

“I remember the battle at Camlann. Mordred...stabbing me.” Arthur paused, sipping his tea and looking past Merlin at nothing. “You tried to save me.”

Merlin gripped his mug harder, nodding and urging Arthur to continue.

“You took me to Avalon. I remember I wasn’t much company,” Arthur smiled wryly.

Merlin smiled back. “Being stabbed with an enchanted blade will do that to a man.”

“It wasn’t just that and you know it. Merlin, you did nothing but help me, and I...” Arthur stopped, and Merlin reached out and wrapped a hand around his calf, squeezing.

“Stop, it’s fine, Arthur. More than fine.” Merlin didn’t say anything else, and it seemed he didn’t need to. Arthur cleared his throat, and continued.

“There’s not much else. I remembering you killing Morgana - nice job, that, by the way,” Arthur smiled. “Then we were by the lake, and then...nothing. Nothing until I opened my eyes in the middle of a field somewhere near here, with some kind of...force, guiding me here. It’s like I went to sleep in Avalon and woke up here, hours later.”

Merlin swallowed heavily, setting his tea aside. “Arthur, I don’t know where to start with this so I’m just going to say it. You’ve been...gone for hundreds of years. A millenia. You died in my arms that day in Avalon, and I’ve been waiting for you ever since, every single day.” 

Arthur set his mouth into a straight line, a face Merlin knew well. He knew it meant Arthur was processing, trying to make sense of what Merlin had just said, and Merlin couldn’t blame him. Even finding out about Merlin’s magic had probably been easier to swallow than this. 

“What do you mean, waiting?” Arthur asked, tentatively.

“Well...” Merlin paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s pretty much what it sounds like. When you...died, the dragon said you would rise again when Albion needed you most, and I would be here. So, I’ve been here, waiting and watching for signs of your return.”

Arthur slumped back against the cushions, his mouth hanging open a little. “For hundreds of years, you’ve just been alone, waiting for me? How did you know what signs to look for?”

Merlin bristled a little at the assumption that he’d been alone, but well, he had been. The reasons for that were an explanation for another day, however. “I’ve travelled around a lot, seen so much, had a lot of jobs, kept busy as best I could...right now I teach history.” They shared a bit of a smile at that. “Another time, remind me to tell you what the history books say about you, you’ll love it. As for signs, I never knew what I was looking for, until it happened. I looked for you at major moments in history, through so many wars, but you were never there”

“I feel as if I should apologize for keeping you waiting.” Arthur’s smile was a bit sad, and Merlin kind of hated how it looked.

“Not even the great King Arthur can control destiny.” Merlin shifted closer to Arthur on the sofa, letting their thighs press together. He took a deep breath, and dropped his hand to Arthur’s thigh, hanging on as if for support.

“This time, I knew you were coming back, because...the other’s started showing up in my life.”

“Does this have something to do with Sir Leon living here, and having no idea who I was when I ran up to him in the street like a bit of a madman?”

Merlin nodded, and realized he hadn’t really thought about if Arthur would remember his knights, he’d just been so relieved to see him. “It does, though that was a new discovery even for me this morning. It started a few months ago, on the first day of school.”

Merlin launched into the story, about how he nearly passed out when he met Gwaine and Percy, how Lance had been teaching him football and Elyan owned a pub. He told him about Gwaine and Percy moving in together, and their general problem with keeping their hands off one another, and Arthur chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“But they don’t know who you are? Or each other?” Arthur asked, after Merlin had finished.

Merlin shook his head. “No, not yet. I wonder if now that you’re back, they’ll start to. I guess time will tell.”

“I imagine you’ve gotten good at waiting, after all these years.” Arthur leaned forward and set his tea mug on the coffee table, before settling back next to Merlin. “Is that everything you had to tell me?”

Merlin shrugged. “For now, I supposed. I don’t really know what else is important.”

“Good, because nothing makes sense to me right now, except you. You _would_ wait a thousand years.” Arthur reached out and ran his fingers along Merlin’s cheekbone, feather-light.

Merlin leaned into the touch, even as he smirked. “I had no choice but to wait, you prat. I am immortal, you know.”

Arthur leaned in closer, his lips a breath from Merlin’s. “Maybe so, but you didn’t have to be alone.” And then his lips were on Merlin’s, and Merlin didn’t care about getting the last word. The kiss grew hungry fast, both of them pouring their whole selves into, and all the things that they hadn’t yet said. Merlin’s hands were eager to do all the things he’d wanted to do when Arthur was in the bath, roaming over his broad back, fingertips digging into the strong muscles. Arthur groaned into Merlin’s mouth and pulled him closer, his arms enveloping Merlin almost completely.

 

“Does this strange little place you call home have a bed?” Arthur’s breath was warm against Merlin’s ear, and Merlin shivered, nodding. He stood and pulled Arthur with him, grateful that his apartment was small, and they were only steps from the bedroom. Merlin led Arthur to the bed and pushed him back against it, dragging Arthur’s shirt up over his head before guiding him onto the bed. Now that he had Arthur in front of him and he knew he could touch, his hands were burning for it and he felt he might burst into flames if he didn’t get his hands on Arthur’s body.

He paused just long enough to pull off his own shirt, still wearing the same worn t-shirt he’d slept in the night before. He crawled onto the bed, up and over Arthur until he could kiss him, their bare chest pressed together, skin hot already. Merlin dragged his hands up the side of Arthur’s body, fitting his fingers in between Arthur’s ribs, rubbing the tips of his fingers over Arthur’s nipple, up and up until he was cupping Arthur’s chin, tipping his head up to kiss him even deeper. He tasted like Merlin’s tea, but underneath that Merlin imagined he could taste the heady flavour of Camelot’s best wine, of the kitchen’s finest food. He rocked his hips down against Arthur’s and could feel him growing hard already through his pants, and Arthur answered the motion with a groan, his hands finding Merlin’s hips and hanging on hard.

“Merlin.” Arthur nearly panted against Merlin’s mouth, already breathless and he pulled Merlin’s hips tighter against him. “Please, I need to be inside you.”

Merlin barely held back a whimper, pressing his hot face into the side of Arthur’s neck as he nodded. It was moving so fast, so much faster than Merlin had thought it would, but he’d have time for a tender exploration of Arthur’s body later. His head spun at the thought of having _time_ with Arthur, even has he panted out his answer. “God, yes, yes.” He kissed Arthur once more before crawling off him, digging through the drawer of his bedside table for a well-used bottle of lube. He may have been alone for centuries, but he still had needs, obviously. He shimmied out of his sweats and helped Arthur do the same, his mouth going dry as Arthur settled himself between Merlin’s spread thighs.

He flicked open the lube and held it out to Arthur with a crooked grin on his face. “Pretty much nothing about this has changed in centuries, but that makes it better.”

Arthur looked at the bottle for a moment, then tipped it over his fingers, the slick liquid coating them easily. His face lit up as he rubbed his fingers together, a dirty grin spreading across it. “This is much better than that grease you used to steal from Gaius.” He pressed his fingers to Merlin’s hole and pushed in, and Merlin groaned, his body stretching to accept the still familiar intrusion.

“You have no idea how much better.” Merlin’s voice was already shaking, Arthur’s thick fingers deep inside him, spreading him wide open. His heart hammered hard in his chest and he pushed back against Arthur’s fingers, wanting more, wanting too much. He writhed on the bed, his hands fisted in the bedspread and he felt like he was going to leap right out of his skin, completely overwhelmed, physically and emotionally. Just when he thought he was going to snap, his body starting to shake, Arthur put a firm hand on his hip and held him still, just enough to calm Merlin down, to slow his breathing.

“Relax, Merlin, I’m here.” Arthur’s voice was soft even as he twisted his fingers inside Merlin, and Merlin unwound one of his hands from the bedspread, reaching out to take Arthur’s hand from where it was on Merlin’s hip, tangling their fingers together.

Merlin’s voice was reedy, and he could feel tears just barely below the surface. “I know. I still can’t believe it.”

Arthur smiled, a cocksure smile that Merlin had grown to love, squeezing Merlin’s hand as he pushed a third finger into Merlin, deep and fast. “Well, then I’ll just have to make you believe it, won’t I?”

Merlin arched his back, tossing his other arm over his eyes, moaning. “Oh God, Arthur, please.” He let his legs fall open even wider, his cock curved hard and needy against his belly, and he was pretty sure he’d never wanted anything quite as much as he wanted Arthur inside him at this moment.

He was glad to see that Arthur was in about the same shape he was. Merlin could feel the tension in Arthur’s muscles as he pushed his fingers in deeper, could see the sheen of sweat dampening Arthur’s hair, the flush spreading down his chest. He leaned over Merlin, pushing one of his legs back and up until he could press their lips together, the kiss messy and full of tongues and teeth and it was perfect. 

 

“Ready, Merlin?” He panted against Merlin’s mouth, teeth teasing along the edges of Merlin’s lips.

Merlin nodded, wrapping one leg around Arthur’s waist. “Never been more ready.” He gasped a bit when Arthur slid his fingers out, the sudden emptiness shocking, but it was mere moments before he felt the blunt head of Arthur’s cock pressed against him, pushing in. Arthur pushed in slowly, letting Merlin feel every inch of the stretch, the deep-down ache so sweet Merlin let out a sound like a sob. He wrapped both of his arms around Arthur’s back, digging his fingers in and hanging on just as Arthur bottomed out inside him.

Arthur stayed still for a long moment, both of them silent, breathing together. Merlin still felt overwhelmed, every inch of his skin tingling, but he felt more grounded right this second than he could remember feeling in a long time, like suddenly everything was going to be okay. Arthur was a solid, heavy weight above him, completely surrounding him, and Merlin was drinking it in. Then Merlin couldn’t take the stillness anymore, needing more, and he rocked his hips up enough to let Arthur slip in just a little bit deeper. Arthur groaned above him, pressing one more kiss to Merlin’s lips before he started moving, sliding out until just the head was keeping Merlin stretched open before pushing back in, letting Merlin feel him slide deep over and over.

The slow, deep rhythm was driving Merlin insane, his heart hammering and his muscles quivering as Arthur pushing him closer to the edge. He scraped his nails down Arthur’s back, hard enough to bring a sharp gasp from Arthur’s lips and to interrupt his rhythm. Arthur grinned down at Merlin, his face flushed and his eyes a little glassy. He fucked into Merlin faster, staying as deep as he could, his hips hammering against Merlin’s. Merlin threw his hands behind his head to hang onto the headboard, his breath being pushed out of him in soft gasps with every thrust. He could feel heat starting to swirl in his belly, his cock leaking a stream of pre-come where it was trapped between their bodies. He thought about trying to get a hand around it, to pull himself off, but his fingers were wrapped so tightly around the headboard he was sure he’d fly apart if he let go.

“Merlin, fuck, Merlin.” Arthur was starting to babble, his hips stuttering, two clear signs that he was getting close. Merlin’s heart clenched at that, that even after so long he recognized the signs, that Arthur was so much the same. Arthur hiked one of Merlin’s legs up over his shoulder, his next thrust going so deep that Merlin was sure his eyes rolled back in his head. He moaned as Arthur turned his head to press kisses to Merlin’s leg, his tongue swirling over the soft skin at the inside of Merlin’s ankle, the kind of tender touch that Merlin had missed more than anything. He could feel Arthur murmuring against his skin but he couldn’t hear him, and he stopped trying when he felt his belly go tight, his muscles locking up as his orgasm barrelled down on him.

He came hard, squeezing his eyes shut as he spilled messily between their bodies, forgetting how to breathe for just a second. Above him, Arthur was panting, his body shaking as he pushed in deep and fast and Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, pulling him down to kiss him fiercely. He tangled his hands in Arthur’s hair and tugged, and was rewarded with a deep moan against his mouth. Arthur’s hips stuttered one last time before stopping, holding himself deep inside Merlin as he came, shaking in Merlin’s arms. He collapsed against Merlin’s chest, and Merlin just held him tighter, not willing to let go even though he was heavy.

They lay like that for a long while, just holding each other and breathing together. Eventually, Arthur rolled to the side, only moving far enough away to stop crushing Merlin, his arm still draped heavily across Merlin’s chest. His hand splayed out over Merlin’s heart, and Merlin dropped his hand to rest over top of Arthur’s. Now that his heart rate and breathing were returning to normal, his brain was starting to spin again, trying to process what had happened today, and what it meant for the future. He hardly even noticed that he’d started crying, finally so overwhelmed that the tears just started spilling out unbidden.

“Merlin, you idiot,” Arthur said fondly, brushing a tear away from Merlin’s eye with a thumb. “There’s nothing to cry about.”

Merlin cleared his throat, but his voice still came out tear-thick. “Arthur...the dragon said you’d come back when Albion needed you most. I have seen this land through some truly horrible things, and none of them were what brought you back to me. What’s coming? How bad can it be?” 

Arthur pulled Merlin closer, bending to kiss him where he’d just wiped away the tear. “I don’t know any more than you do, but we’ve faced some terrible things together. We can handle this, whatever it is. Especially if we have my best knights to help us.” He smiled, confident as always. “The Great King Arthur, right?”

A welcome laugh bubbled up in Merlin’s chest, and he swatted Arthur’s arm. “Right, something like that.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of Arthur’s stomach rumbling, a sound that startled both of them. “Oh...sorry about that.”

Merlin looked at the clock and realized it was late afternoon and he hadn’t eaten all day, and Arthur hadn’t eaten in...well, a lot longer than that. “No, no, my fault, I’m hungry too. Get dressed and I’ll see about making some food.”

“Has your cooking gotten better in the last few hundred years?” Arthur smirked down at him, and Merlin tossed a pillow at his face, climbing out of the bed and into his sweats while Arthur recovered.

“Not even a little bit, I’ve made sure to keep making things just the way you like them.” Merlin grinned at Arthur from the doorway, and ducked just in time to dodge the pillow tossed at him from the bed. Time hadn’t dulled his dodge-the-things-Arthur-throws-at-your-head reflexes, then. That was good to know. He padded to the kitchen and started digging through cupboards and the fridge, and managed to pull together something remembering a meal. He was stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove when he started to _think_ again, thinking about Gwaine and Percy, Lance, Elyan and Leon and if they would remember, and when they’d remember. What they would _do_ when they remembered. Just as he was starting to panic, stirring the sauce fast enough to splash it out of the pot, Arthur appeared behind him, sliding his arms around Merlin’s waist and resting his chin on Merlin’s shoulder.

“What is that? It smells good.” Arthur sounded surprised, but Merlin just sank back into his arms, trying to relax. Tomorrow was another day, with it’s own set of problems. No point in forcing it here any faster than it was coming on it’s own. He’d waited so long to get to this point, he had to trust that destiny knew what it was doing.

 

**_Gwaine_**

_Gwaine panted, breathing heavy as he ran through the forest, his muscles screaming. His armour was heavy and he didn’t want to think about how long he’d been running, but he pushed himself forward, glancing behind him to make sure the rest of the knights were with still with him. He counted quickly, Percival, Lance, and Elyan all visible, doing their best to remain in formation around Merlin and Arthur, keeping the king safe. He heard a loud crack, the sound of a tree branch breaking and stopped in his tracks, heels skidding against the forest floor._

_Morgana stood in front of him in a clearing, impossibly getting in front of them despite their head start. Her hands were raised above her head, her eyes twinkling, the smirk on her face making Gwaine’s fists clench against his sides, one hand wrapping around the hilt of his sword._

_“You think you can hurt me with your silly mortal weapons? Haven’t you learned anything?” Morgana thrust her hands in Gwaine’s direction and he went flying backwards, slamming hard into the trunk of a tree. He heard Percival shouting his name just as his head cracked against the tree and he slid down towards the ground, the world going dark._

Gwaine woke with a start, his legs tangled in the sheets, his skin slick with sweat. He knew he’d been dreaming, but the second he opened his eyes the dream was gone and the more he reached for it the faster it disappeared, like trying to catch smoke in his fingers. He felt itchy and anxious, like there was something important he was forgetting to do, but it was the middle of the night on a Sunday, and he couldn’t imagine what he could possibly be forgetting. Next to him, Percy was sleeping, but he didn’t really appear to be in much better shape than Gwaine. His brow was furrowed, and a frown curved his lips in a way Gwaine didn’t like to see. His hands were fisted tightly in the bedding, so tight that his knuckles had gone white, and Gwaine ran his fingers gently over the bumps of Percy’s knuckles.

“Perce, hey, wake up.” Percy was making soft sounds, almost pained whimpers, and he nearly jumped out of the bed when Gwaine shook his shoulder. “Shhhh, I think you were having a bad dream.”

Percy looked at Gwaine with wide eyes, almost confused, his breathing heavy before pulling Gwaine close and burying in his nose in Gwaine’s hair. “Shit, I dreamt...I don’t even know, it felt so real.”

Gwaine nudged Percy back to laying down, and arranged them so Gwaine could wrap himself around Percy’s frame, resting his head on Percy’s chest. “It wasn’t though, yeah? Everything’s fine.” He lifted up and pressed a soft kiss to Percy’s lips. “I can’t sleep either though, must be something in the air tonight.”

Percy nodded, carding his fingers through Gwaine’s hair softly, both of them just lying there quiet for a few minutes. Percy’s voice was soft when he spoke, so soft Gwaine almost didn’t hear him. “You died. I was holding you, trying to save you, and you died.”

A stab of pain shot through Gwaine’s chest, and for a moment he lost his breath. He held onto Percy tighter, his brain racing even faster like there was a memory just out of his reach, something he couldn’t get to. He looked up at Percy and tried to grin, but he was pretty sure he didn’t quite make it. “Always trying to be my hero.”

Percy curved a hand around Gwaine’s cheek, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. “Want to try sleeping again?”

Gwaine nodded, leaning into Percy’s touch, even though his skin still felt itchy and he still felt like there was something obvious he was forgetting. He kissed Percy once more and settled down against his chest, feeling a bit better when Percy’s strong arms were wrapped around him. He listened to the steady beating of Percy’s heart, and eventually managed to drift back into a fitful sleep.

_Gwaine woke alone. The last thing he remembered was getting the jump on Morgana, Percival running her through with his sword. Before they could react, Morgana had fought back, sending them both flying, and now Gwaine was here, tied to a tree with Morgana in front of him, a small serpent squirming through her fingers. Gwaine’s mouth went dry as she moved towards him, the serpent’s teeth glinting in the dim light of the woods. He wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to know, no matter what she did to him._

_The pain was the worst he’d ever felt, his whole body screaming with it. The Nathair’s bites burned like fire licking his skin, spreading inside him until he couldn’t take it any longer. He screamed wordlessly, arching hard against his bonds, tears pricking at his eyes. He wanted the pain to stop, wanted to break free and give Morgana what she deserved, but he couldn’t, could do nothing more than whimper, his hair soaked with sweat as Morgana kneeled before him._

_“This will all stop if you just tell me what you know. Where has Arthur gone?” Her voice was calm and firm, but her eyes flickered with the frantic panic of a trapped animal._

_Gwaine swallowed though his mouth was bone dry, and looked at Morgana with all the strength he could muster. “No. I will not tell you.”_

_He screamed as she brought the Nathair to his skin again, the pain impossibly growing with each bite, his blood so full of the snake’s poison that it felt like it was burning him from the inside out. Morgana asked him again, over and over, and he resisted for what felt like hours. He could barely speak, his voice hoarse from screaming, but eventually his body couldn’t take anymore. Morgana had to lean close to hear him as he whispered Arthur’s destination, the words spilling from his lips on a soft sob. Somewhere in the distance he heard the crunching of leaves, maybe footsteps, and before he could even look up at Morgana, she was gone, and Gwaine was alone._

_Worse than the physical pain Morgana’s magic has caused, his heart ached with what he’d done, with how he’d failed his king. He hung weakly from his bonds, tears streaming down his face, unable to even struggle against the ropes binding him. His mind raced even though he tried to stop it, and he remembered the first time he’d met Arthur, before he’d known he was royalty. He remembered the moment when he gave his heart to Arthur, pledged to protect him and Camelot, no matter what. He remembered the knights, **his** knights, his best friends and more, and he knew that they’d never think he’d failed, they’d know that he did all he could, and he clung to that thought as he felt his strength draining._

_He didn’t have the strength to look up when he heard someone crash into the clearing, but as soon as they fell to their knees in front of him, Gwaine knew who it was. Percival’s hands were gentle as they gripped Gwaine’s face, and the pain in his eyes was nearly equal to the pain Gwaine still felt in his body. He cursed the bonds that were preventing him from falling into Percival’s strong arms one last time, wanting to tell him everything he’d always been too proud to say._

_“She rides for Avalon,” Gwaine said instead, hoping that Percival would still have time to pass on the message. “I have failed.” The world was going dark around him, the edges of his vision greying out as the pain blissfully finally began to fade. Gwaine closed his eyes just as he felt Percival’s head rest against his, and let the blackness take him over._

“Gwaine! Wake up!” Percy was shaking him, an incredibly worried look on his face. Gwaine was sweaty, the sheets sticking to him, and when he reached up to wipe his face, he realized he was crying, tears pouring down his cheeks. He felt short of breath, his heart racing, and it took a few long moments of Percy stroking down his chest and arms and murmuring softly to him to calm him down.

“I think I had the same dream you did. I died, but you were there.” Gwaine furrowed his brow, trying to grab onto the rest of the dream. It felt so important, like maybe he was forgetting the most important thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t close his fingers around it.

Percy kissed his forehead, brushing back Gwaine’s sweaty fringe. “I’ll always be there, you know that.”

Gwaine smiled, and Percival’s words seemed to hit him deep down, like nothing could ever be more true. “I know you will.”

Outside, the sun was already beginning to come up, the birds starting to wake. They’d have to get up for work soon anyways, and Gwaine decided they should make the best possible use of this time. He felt like he need to be touching Percy, like something deep inside him was itching for it, and he pushed the covers back, rolling quickly until he was straddling Percy’s waist. He ran his hands over the broad expanse of Percy’s chest, spreading them wide. He grinned and bent down to kiss Percy, deepening the kiss fast and groaning into Percy’s mouth when he felt Percy’s big hands wrap around his hips.

“Leave it to you to turn bad dreams into sex.” Percy spoke against the side of Gwaine’s neck, his voice light with amusement.

Gwaine rocked his hips down against where Percy was already hardening against him, grateful as ever that neither of them bothered with pajamas. “I don’t see you complaining.”

Percy gripped Gwaine’s hips hard and rolled them over, settling heavily between Gwaine’s thighs and grinding against him with a mischievous grin on his face . “I never said that was a complaint.” He bent down and kissed Gwaine deep and filthy, and Gwaine groaned into his mouth, wrapping his arms and Percy’s shoulders and holding him close. Gwaine scraped his fingernails up Percy’s back and over his scalp, scratching through the short hair. He could feel Percy’s cock hard and thick against his own as Percy rocked down into him, and Gwaine tilted his hips up to increase the friction, needing the touch.

“Perce, just fuck me, yeah?” Gwaine ached for it already, needed to feel Percy inside of him, and he didn’t stop to think too hard about it. He dug around under his pillow for their nearly empty tube of lube, pressing it against Percy’s chest. 

Percy breathed out sharply, and immediately opened the tube, squeezing it out over his fingers. Gwaine spread his legs eagerly, sighing gratefully when Percy slid two fingers in, slow and deep. Even the very first time, Percy was like a wizard at this, knowing exactly how and where to touch Gwaine to drive him insane. His fingers were thick, stretching Gwaine open perfectly, already making him think of how much more Percy’s cock was going to stretch him and how much he loved it. Percy twisted his fingers, scissoring them until Gwaine was rocking down against Percy’s hand, begging for more.

He got it, but slowly, so slowly it only made him want it more. Percy pulled his fingers out and pressed three up against Gwaine’s hole, dipping just the tips in before pulling them back. Gwaine whined high in his throat as Percy kept it up, pressing his fingers no more than an inch in, giving Gwaine just a taste before taking it away again.

“Percy,” Gwaine ground out, tilting his hips and trying to pull Percy’s fingers in deeper.

“Mmm?” Percy murmured, rubbing his fingers over Gwaine’s hole. “Did you want something?”

Gwaine grit his teeth, his tongue not really working as he felt his hole clenching and nearly grabbing for Percy’s teasing fingers. “No, this is great, really. I live to be tortured.” Something inside of Gwaine twinged at that, but before he could go after it, Percy pushed three fingers deep inside him, and Gwaine couldn’t think.

Percy stretched up over him, kissing him and just holding his fingers deep inside Gwaine. He couldn’t decide if this was better or worse than the teasing, the feeling of fullness but with such frustrating stillness. Gwaine tried to focus on Percy’s mouth against his, wrapping a hand around the back of Percy’s neck and giving as good as he could. He slid his other hand between their bodies, wrapping it around Percy’s hard, slick cock, rubbing his thumb over the head just to hear the way Percy cursed softly into his mouth. Gwaine stroked Percy’s cock slowly, enjoying the feeling of it huge and heavy in his hand. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been a little in awe and a lot intimidated when he’d first laid eyes on Percy’s cock, but not he was pretty sure he could never live without it.

“You want me to fuck you?” Percy pulled away from Gwaine’s mouth to speak softly next to his ear, how Gwaine knew he was about to hear something really filthy and wonderful. “You always want it, you’re so easy for it, open right up, don’t you?”

Gwaine just nodded, his breath coming out in soft whines as Percy finally started moving his three fingers inside Gwaine, keeping them deep and just rocking them. 

“You ready for me? Can you take it?”

Gwaine squeezed his hand tighter around Percy’s cock and was rewarded with a sharp gasp. “Why don’t you try me?”

Percy pulled his fingers nearly all the way out until just the tips were keeping Gwaine open, and Gwaine held his breath through the long beat before Percy shoved his fingers back in, hard enough to rock Gwaine back on the bed. Gwaine’s breath left him in a sob, and he dropped his hand from Percy’s cock, his fingers groping uselessly against the duvet.

He whimpered when Percy pulled his fingers out again, but then finally, _finally_ , he felt the slick, blunt head of Percy’s dick pressing against his hole. Gwaine reached up to wrap his arms around Percy’s shoulders, his nails digging in just a bit as Percy pushed forward, slow and persistent. This part always made his heart race, made him feel like he was going to shake apart in the best way possible. Percy was so big, so thick, and he stretched Gwaine just this side of too far, and Gwaine loved it, craved it.

This time, Percy didn’t tease and didn’t make him beg. Percy groaned when he was fully seated in Gwaine’s arse and started thrusting, long and deep and dragging Gwaine’s breath out in gasps and thighs with every thrust. Gwaine hooked one of his legs around Percy’s hip and hitched up his own, changing the angle just enough to let Percy slide impossibly deeper, their balls slapping together solidly. It was perfect, the best kind of too much. Gwaine loved how Percy could make him feel small and protected, even though he wasn’t exactly a small guy himself. He liked looking up and being able to see nothing but Percy above him, the broad expanse of his chest, the furrow of his brow and the way his teeth dug into his lower lip when he thrust in particularly hard.

Gwaine slid his hand up the back of Percy’s neck and curled it around, pulling Percy down for a kiss. It was messy and uncoordinated, but it only fueled the fire in Gwaine’s belly. With every thrust, he could feel heat coiling tighter and tighter, his cock trapped hard and wet between their bodies, bumping against Percy’s stomach and leaving a slick trail. He moaned into Percy’s mouth when he shifted, the angle changing just enough so Percy’s cock was rubbing against Gwaine’s prostate on every thrust. The flared ridge of the head pressed against it, a near constant pressure that had Gwaine gasping, every muscle drawing up tight as he felt his orgasm start to roll over him.

He hung on even tighter to Percy, his body starting to shake, and panted wetly against Percy’s cheek. He wanted to talk, had so much that he wanted to say like always, but the only sounds he could make his mouth form were needy moans and rough gasps of Percy’s name. When Gwaine came, it started in his feet, his toes curling against Percy’s thigh. It rolled over him like a wave, his whole body arching against Percy until finally his cock jerked between them, slicking their stomachs. As soon as he came, Gwaine’s body went nearly limp, his limbs tingling deliciously. He groaned as Percy kept fucking into him, every thrust feeling even deeper now that his body was over-sensitized and near wrung out.

Percy dropped to his elbows and wrapped his arms around Gwaine, pressing their bodies together from shoulders to knees, his thrusts getting erratic. The slight change in position kept Percy’s thrusts shallower, the fat head of his cock stretching Gwaine’s hole and rubbing over inflamed nerves endings so Gwaine was nearly shivering in Percy’s arms. Percy dropped his head and moaned against Gwaine’s collarbone, his breath hot and wet, and Gwaine felt his hips stutter, could almost feel the warmth flooding him when Percy came inside him. They lay like that for a long while, Percy turning his head to kiss Gwaine lazily as the sun started really filtering into the bedroom, casting a warm light over their sweaty bodies.

Their peace was interrupted by the blare of the alarm clock, and Gwaine groaned, flailing an arm out to slap it into silence, still perfectly happy to be trapped under Percy’s comforting weight, especially after the night they’d had. He figured Percy must feel pretty similar, from the way Percy held Gwaine’s face in his hands, looking down at him with a loose, happy smile on his face as he pressed his lips to Gwaine’s forehead. Something pinged inside of Gwaine, something familiar, but altogether different. When Percy pulled back, Gwaine returned his grin, tipping his chin up until Percy got the hint and bent down for one more brief kiss.

“Better get ready for work. Do you want the shower first?” 

Gwaine groaned, perfectly happy to stay in bed with Percy all day, but he had auditions for the school musical this afternoon, and that really was always an entertaining day. “I’d say you could join me, but we might never get out of here if you did.”

Percy’s eyes twinkled a bit, and he kissed Gwaine once more before rolling away and swatting Gwaine on the hip. “Go, I know it takes time to look that perfect.”

Gwaine stuck his tongue out at Percy and rolled out of bed, making sure to wiggle his ass a little extra on the way to the door, turning to bat his eyelashes. “You love it.”

“I do. Now go, and I’ll make coffee.” Percy looked at him with a soft look on his face, the kind of look that made Gwaine’s insides feel all mushy and made him want to watch terrible films and steal a teenage girl’s iPod. He still felt like something wasn’t quite right, like something important was dangling right out of his grasp, but he shook it off as best he could, pretty sure that he and Percy could take on the world if they had to.

 

Gwaine and Percy arrived at the school, and headed for the staff room. He wasn’t sure what it was, but Gwaine felt like he really needed to see Merlin today, something nagging at him. The staff room was empty however, and by the time the bell rang for the day to begin, Merlin was still nowhere to be seen. Percy shrugged, squeezing Gwaine’s shoulder as he stood to make his way to his first class.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, if he’s not here at lunch, we’ll swing by his place on the way home, yeah?” He smiled, and Gwaine returned it, feeling a bit silly. Merlin probably just had a cold, he’d never taken a sick day in all the months Gwaine had known him, he was certainly due.

“Yeah, that sounds good. See you in a few.” Gwaine leaned in and kissed Percy quickly, and hurried out into the hall, joining the crush of students making their way to their form rooms. When he got to his classroom he tapped out a quick text asking Merlin if he was alright, and tossed his phone into his bag, brightly greeting his students as they started to filter in, grumbling insincere good morning’s.

The day moved quickly, as Mondays often did, and before Gwaine knew, he was sliding into a chair next to Percy in the staff room, biting into an only slightly soggy sandwich. “I texted him just before I started my first lesson, I haven’t heard back,” Gwaine mumbled around a mouthful of bread.

Percy wrinkled his brow, picking at a seed on his bread. “Huh, that’s not like him. If he’s sick, maybe he’s just sleeping.”

Gwaine shrugged, and swallowed, downing a mouthful of juice. “Maybe, I’ve just got this feeling, you know?”

“After last night, and those dreams...yeah.” Percy shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts, reaching over to squeeze Gwaine’s arm. “Just a few more hours and then we’ll go see him, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“That’s the weird thing. I don’t really feel like there’s anything wrong with him exactly, just...I feel like I need to see him.” Gwaine raked his hand through his hair and laughed at himself. “I sound crazy.”

Percy smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You always do, mate.”

“You didn’t seem to think I sounded too crazy this morning,” Gwaine licked his lips, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Well, you do have rare moments of sanity.” Percy grinned, and Gwaine couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter.

Lunch ended too soon, as always, but the rest of the day went quickly, Gwaine’s auditions proving to be just as entertaining as he’d hoped. Most of the kids that auditioned were doing it because they loved performing, even if that didn’t necessarily mean they were _good_ at it, and Gwaine loved rewarding and encouraging kids to do better. He talked a lot about how being a drama teacher was being paid to goof around, but really, he loved seeing kids getting up onstage and doing what they felt like they were meant to do. Of course, he also loved seeing the kids come in who were convinced they were the second coming of Bernadette Peters but sang more like Miss Piggy, but he kept that little bit of enjoyment to himself, and maybe the guys at the pub on the weekend once he’d had enough pints.

Finally, Gwaine and Percy were done for the day, and made their way to Merlin’s flat, knocking somewhat nervously on the door. Gwaine let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when Merlin opened the door, looking a bit worn out, but generally well.

“Merlin! We were worried when you weren’t at work today, is everything alright?” Gwaine leaned against the door frame, but Merlin stood firm in front of him, not letting him pass.

“Um...well, mostly yes. Things are...well.” Merlin ran a hand through his hair and laughed nervously, slumping against the wall just inside the door. “You should probably just come in. I want to warn you, but I don’t even know how.”

“Warn us about what?” Gwaine and Percy stepped through the door and into Merlin’s living room, and Gwaine felt his face fall. His whole body would have collapsed onto the floor if Percy hadn’t been standing behind him, and even still, it was a near thing as Percy wasn’t the most steady on his feet at the moment.

Merlin shut the door behind them, resting a calming hand on Gwaine’s shoulder. “About that.”

“Arthur.” Percy spoke first, his voice soft and reverent, and Gwaine could feel Percy’s heart hammering against his back, racing in time with his own. Gwaine’s mouth was dry and he felt speechless, all of the blank spots in his memory filling in all at once, the dreams from the night before making sense, even when they absolutely shouldn’t have. 

Gwaine reached back for Percy’s hand, squeezing it maybe a little tighter than was completely necessary, and willed his brain to stop moving so he could comprehend what he was seeing. He was in Merlin’s little flat, where he’d been dozens of times, but this time, seated on Merlin’s threadbare sofa, dressed in Merlin’s jogging bottoms and a t-shirt that he was pretty sure was Percy’s, was Arthur Pendragon, the king of Camelot. The king that Gwaine had died trying to protect. Gwaine’s heart skipped a beat at that, remembering his own death, and he tried not to think too hard about it. 

“Oh God, Gwaine.” Percy’s voice was thick, and he spun Gwaine around in his arms, burying his face in Gwaine’s hair. Gwaine could feel the wetness on Percy’s cheeks, and knew there was some spilling down his own. You don’t remember your lover dying in your arms without a few tears, especially when that lover is standing alive and well in front of you, centuries later.

“I see you two are still at it.” Arthur’s voice surrounded him, suddenly so familiar, and Gwaine reluctantly stepped out of Percy’s embrace to face him. 

Arthur was smiling, leaning against the wall and looking entirely out of place without his armour. “Sire, how...?” Gwaine stammered, his tongue tripping over his words, unsure if he should be kneeling before his king.

“Merlin can probably explain it better than I can, since he was there even after I...well, after I died.” Gwaine’s heart lurched at that, that centuries old feeling of failure flaring up inside of him. 

“But it seems that the great dragon told Merlin that I had to die in that moment, but that I would rise again when Albion needed me most. Merlin here has been waiting for me for centuries, and he knew that I was coming when he met you.” Arthur smiled, and Gwaine felt faint, grateful for Percy’s strength behind him.

“He waited...you mean...Merlin, is that why you’re such a great history teacher?” Percy asked, the mood in the room lightening as everyone laughed.

Merlin shrugged, lips curving in a half-smile. “I guess, yeah, it is. Come on, why don’t you guys come in and sit down, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

A few minutes later, Gwaine was curled up on Merlin’s couch, leaning into Percy’s shoulder, his hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. Everything was still surreal, his head full of entirely too much impossible information, but he could feel it starting to settle in, could feel that eventually, everything would be alright.

“So, Merlin, are you seriously like, 1000 years old?” Gwaine asked the first question, the one that felt easiest somehow.

Merlin shrugged, looking no different than he had yesterday even if Gwaine imagined he could see the weight of hundreds of years on his shoulders. “I guess so? I mean, I’m sort of the same age I was when everything...happened, but I’ve let myself age a few times, grown old so I could stay in one place longer.”

Arthur wrinkled his brow, leaning forward. “Wait, I just realized I never asked...You were a sorcerer, you told me that right before the end. Do you still...have magic?”

“You’re a _sorcerer_?!” Gwaine and Percy exclaimed in near-unison, and Merlin winced.

“Well, yes? I mean, I was. I still have magic, but I haven’t used it in a long time, except for the aging thing. I don’t have a lot of cause to use magic these days.” Merlin looked a bit nervous, and he rubbed his palms over his thighs. “I sort of forgot you didn’t know?”

Gwaine knew his eyes were stretched comically wide, but he couldn’t help it. “Well how about that. It nevers ends today, does it?”

As if some cosmic force was looking down on them all and laughing, there was another knock on Merlin’s door. Merlin got up to answer it, and Gwaine took the opportunity to lean in and speak quietly to Arthur, Percy’s hand strong and encouraging on his shoulder. “Sire, I want...I want to apologize for telling Morgana you were heading to Avalon, I am so sorry. She...well, she tortured me and I just couldn’t...” Gwaine dropped his head, but it was mere moments before Arthur reached out and squeezed Gwaine’s knee, a soft smile on his face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Gwaine, nothing at all. I know you gave your life trying to protect me, you could’ve done no more.” Arthur cocked his head, his smile curving up even more. “Besides, if you hadn’t told Morgana where we were going, I wouldn’t have had the exquisite chance to see Merlin run her through with a sword.”

Gwaine felt his mouth drop open, and Percy barked out a laugh. “Merlin killed Morgana. That’s bloody incredible, why has he not said anything? If it had been me, I’d have been singing it from the rooftops for all these centuries.”

Arthur shrugged, a fond look on his face. “I guess he got used to keeping quiet about his accomplishments.” 

Gwaine could tell there was a lot going unsaid there, maybe things that hadn’t even been said to Merlin yet, and even he knew when it was his place to back off. He nodded, a weight lifting off his heart that must have been there for centuries after Arthur’s kind words, and he relaxed back into the couch, listening to Merlin’s soft voice at the door. Merlin had the door just cracked open, much like he had when Percy and Gwaine had arrived, and from the sounds of it, there was more than one person on the other side of it.

“Merlin, who’s out there?” Percy hollered, turning in his seat to try and see the doorway.

They heard Merlin sigh, and the soft thud of his head hitting the wall. “It’s Lance and Elyan.”

“Is that Percy in there? Is Gwaine there too? Come on, Merlin, let us in.” Lance’s voice carried into the room, and Merin obliged, sighing again as he stepped aside to let them in.

“I was kind of hoping not to do this all at once, but...” Merlin gestured to the living room, and Gwaine almost laughed at the stricken look on Lance’s face before he remembered that not that long ago that was likely the same look he’d had on his own face.

“But...I was just telling Elyan about this dream I had..and he had a dream...”

Gwaine scooted over and patted the cushion next to him, throwing an arm around Lance’s shoulder when he sat down heavily. “It gets easier, but it doesn’t really get any less weird.”

“Okay, you guys just sit here for a second and I’ll be right back. If we’re going to do this, we may as well do it.” Merlin disappeared into the hallway, the door shutting softly behind him, and they all looked at one another taking it in.

“Where do you think he’s gone?” Percy asked, breaking the silence.

Arthur cleared his throat, looking almost guilty. “I am fairly certain that Sir Leon lives next door. He’s the one that brought me here when I...well, when I came back. The details aren’t important.” He straightened up so stiffly, that Gwaine had to stifle a laugh as he made a note to ask Merlin about those details later.

“Leon. Oh God, of course Leon lives next door.” Elyan rubbed a hand over his face and rested his elbows on his knees, looking a bit like he might vomit.

Just then, the door to Merlin’s flat opened one last time, and Leon walked into the room, followed by Merlin. Leon seemed to handle it better than the rest of them, only startling a little before he bowed slightly, greeting Arthur rather smoothly, all things considered. He took his rightful seat at Arthur’s right hand, looking around at the rest of the knights perched on Merlin’s ratty furniture, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“I guess we have some catching up to do, don’t we?” Leon’s smile was warm and familiar, and it seemed that he was like the final piece slotting into place, everything suddenly making sense as soon as he sat down. They did have a lot of catching up to to, but with all of them there, it felt like they had all the time in the world to do it.

 

**_Merlin_**

Merlin stood back, just observing the scene taking place in his living room, his little second hand coffee table suddenly looking every bit as grand as Camelot’s round table when surrounded by Arthur and his knights. They’d been talking for hours, sharing laughter and sadness, catching each other up on the things that some of them had missed, Arthur smiling, both sadly and fondly when Percy and Leon told him how wonderfully Gwen had ruled Camelot after his death. Arthur had loved Gwen, and he had loved Merlin, and Merlin was still grateful to her after all these years for understanding that, and really, being the one to point it out when Merlin and Arthur were both too dense to see it. Perhaps Merlin’s favourite part of the evening was watching Arthur eat his first slice of pizza, eyeing it suspiciously at first, but then devouring the better part of an entire pizza on his own with frequent proclamations about how this was truly the food of kings.

It was so late it was about to be early again when Merlin and Arthur finally crawled into bed, the knights curled up wherever they could fit in Merlin’s living room, none of them really feeling like going home just yet. Gwaine and Percy managed to fit on the couch, and Lance curled up in Merlin’s lumpy armchair, sleeping at such an angle he was guaranteed to have a sore neck in the morning. Leon and Elyan stretched out on the floor, sleeping on piles of blankets and pillows that Merlin had nearly forgotten he’d even had. He’d have thought it uncomfortable, but both of them were out nearly before Merlin had tossed Leon the last pillow. All of them were so worn out, exhausted emotionally as well as physically, sleep was sure to come easy to everyone. Merlin pulled the blankets up over him and Arthur, rolling onto his side and just watching Arthur for a minute, his profile outlined in the moonlight filtering in the window.

“How are you doing, Arthur?” Merlin spoke softly, the kind of voice you only use when it’s very late at night.

Arthur turned to face him, and even in the dark, Merlin could see the slightly incredulous look on your face. “I feel like I should be asking you the same thing. Or my knights. I’m fine Merlin, just a bit confused. It feels like I laid down for a nap in Avalon and woke up here a few minutes later, once I understand how the world works now, I’ll be just fine.” He paused, looking off into the distance for a moment. “But you, and them...I think you’ve had much more to take in, especially you.”

Merlin shrugged, reaching out to rest a hand on Arthur’s bare chest, feeling Arthur’s heart beating steadily beneath his palm. “I’ve had a long time to get used to things. The past few days have been a lot, but it’s a good a lot. I’m so glad to have you back, and all of them too.”

Arthur smiled, rolling onto his back and pulling Merlin with him until Merlin was nearly on top of him, pulling him down for a kiss. Merlin let himself go a bit loose as Arthur’s hands spread wide over his back, sighing into Arthur’s mouth. They kissed lazily for awhile until Merlin pulled back, laying down next to Arthur and resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“I’m going to have to go back to work soon, I don’t think ‘a mythical king just appeared in my apartment’ is an excuse they’ll accept. Maybe one of the other guys will be able to stay with you, we can take turns.”

“Merlin, I think I can handle myself for a few hours alone. I promise I won’t even go outside. Just show me how to work that hot box thing, and maybe the moving picture, I’ll be fine.” Arthur waved his hand dismissively, and Merlin laughed a little, even as he yawned.

“Okay, tomorrow. I’ll show you the microwave and the television. We’ll work up to the stove and the computer.” Merlin tilted his head up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Arthur’s mouth, his heart still speeding up a little at the knowledge that he could do that whenever he wanted to now. “Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night, Merlin.” Merlin fell asleep almost instantly, sleeping deeper and easier than he could remember ever sleeping, his life feeling complete for the first time in centuries.

 

In the morning, it was a bit tricky to convince everyone to go to work, all the knights having the same urge to stick close to each other and to Arthur that Merlin felt. Merlin brewed a few pots of coffee and managed to pull together enough food to feed everyone breakfast, pretending to grumble even though he could hardly keep the smile off his face, watching Leon lean down to speak quietly to Arthur as Percy stole a piece of toast from Elyan when he wasn’t looking. It was such a familiar scene in an unfamiliar place, and Merlin’s heart swelled a little to be a part of it. Eventually, everyone did go off and Merlin made them promise that when they came back, they’d bring food for dinner. His cupboards were almost always bare, but this had cleaned him out of everything but tea and a few tins of beans that he wasn’t even entirely sure he remembered purchasing.

Once everyone was gone,Merlin and Arthur both showered, the shower second only to pizza on Arthur’s list of favourite things about the modern world, and Merlin had a sudden realization as he watched Arthur once again get dressed in his own ill-fitting cast offs.

“We need to take you shopping.”

Arthur cocked his head, looking down at himself. “Shopping?”

“Well, you can’t very well get by in my old clothes and your own armour, though you’d certainly draw attention.” Merlin grinned, and Arthur grimaced a bit.

“I do seem to remember standing out quite a bit on my way here, it’s a wonder Leon brought me here and didn’t have me thrown in a dungeon full of mad men.”

Merlin started to disagree, but he chuckled instead. “You did make quite a sight. Come on, if we go early the shops probably won’t be as busy?

The trip to the shop was more than a bit harrowing, since they had taken the tube. Merlin didn’t really think it through, just moving on muscle memory and not realizing how on edge Arthur was until they were already inside the station. Arthur was not particularly keen on being underground in the first place, and he didn’t exactly feel better about it when the doors of the train slid shut and they took off. Thankfully it was a quick trip, and to his credit, he stayed fairly calm, and Merlin was pretty sure his thigh would recover from the grip of Arthur’s nails before too long. For as much as Arthur had not been a fan of his first trip on the tube, he seemed pretty awed by the shops, and Merlin could understand why. Everything you could ever want was available to you now instantly, easily, a far cry from Arthur’s experience in Camelot, even as a king.

Once they got into the clothing store, Arthur was eager to shop, glad to try on anything Merlin tossed into the dressing room after him. He needed help with things like zippers at first, but he figured it out soon enough, and before long they were walking up to the counter, both of their arms weighed down with jeans and t-shirts and socks and pants, nearly everything Arthur could possibly need. Merlin brought out his credit card to pay, and Arthur seemed to realize in that moment that he didn’t have any money here, and he grabbed Merlin’s arm to stop him.

“Wait, I can’t let you pay for everything.”

Merlin shrugged, smiling. “Sure you can. I’ve never really spent much on myself, and well, I’ve had a while to build up some wealth. I can handle it.”

Arthur looked at him with his mouth hanging open for a moment, blinking. “Merlin. Are you telling me that you’re _wealthy_ now?”

“Well, wealthy might be stretching it a bit, but I could certainly pay for Gwaine’s exploits in the tavern now with no trouble.” Merlin entered his pin and smiled at the sales assistant as he took his receipt, handing Arthur some of the bags to carry. “But actually, he’s pretty good at paying his own way these days, and everyone else’s.”

“Remind me to go to the tavern with Gwaine then, he certainly owes me a few.” Arthur’s voice was light and teasing, and as they stepped back out onto the street, Merlin gave into the urge to reach out and take Arthur’s hand, his heart beating a little faster. Arthur looked over at him, raising his eyebrows in a question, and when Merlin smiled at him, Arthur squeezed his hand and smiled back, and they walked hand in hand together for the very first time. It wasn’t really a very long walk home, and after the train ride on the way there and with the feeling of Arthur’s hand warm in his, Merlin was happy for the trip to take a little longer.

Once they got back to Merlin’s, Arthur was eager to learn how to work everything, and his excitement was more than a little contagious. Merlin couldn’t help but laugh as Arthur marvelled at the fridge and the ice in the freezer, because it seemed like such a small convenience, but it really was an amazing achievement. Arthur took to the television quickly once Merlin explained what all the buttons did, and he seemed more than a bit fascinated by the whole thing as he flipped through the channels too quickly to possibly be seeing much of anything. He eventually settled on cartoons, and Merlin couldn’t blame him. He didn’t watch a ton of television, but when he did, the Cartoon Network was usually his first stop. 

The microwave didn’t go quite as well, but in the end he only blew up two things and there was only a little bit of fire. And Arthur did eventually end up with successfully reheated pizza and a bowl of steaming hot soup, so it wasn’t a total failure. Merlin wasn’t really worried about leaving him alone to go back to work, but it was still so hard to step out of his flat in the morning and leave him behind, despite Arthur assuring him he’d still be there when Merlin got home. The first few days Merlin fidgeted all through the school day, watching the hands on the clock and willing them to move faster, until the second the bell rang for the end of the day and Merlin could race out of the building and make sure Arthur was still there. And of course he was, everyday when Merlin rushed home Arthur was there, sitting on the couch and watching something random and usually terrible on the television, greeting Merlin with a smile and a kiss. Eventually Merlin relaxed, finally letting himself believe Arthur was there to stay.

The guys came over every night for dinner, taking turns bringing food for everyone and usually enough beer to drown a horse. They stayed late enough most nights that Merlin was beginning to wonder if they all shouldn’t just rent a big house together, but he figured that would probably cause more problems than it would solve, mostly to do with Percy and Gwaine having no real sense of privacy when it came to when and where they had sex.

“So, is this what you guys do? All the time?” Arthur spoke around a mouthful of cheeseburger, yet another modern food he was becoming a fan of in the two weeks since his return. 

The guys all shrugged, sharing kind of a confused look before Lance spoke. “Well, not really? We -Gwaine, Percy and me anyways- usually play football on the weekends and go out, but with you back, I guess we just...haven’t.”

“Football? What’s that?” Arthur cocked his head, looking curious.

“It’s a sport, you kick a ball around a pitch, try to score in the net.” Percy took a swing of his beer, grinning as he continued. “Then we all go to Elyan’s pub and drink him dry.”

Arthur perked up visibly, sitting straight in his chair. “That sounds like fun. Could I join?”

“Yeah, of course you can, we’ll teach you.” Lance tilted his bottle towards Arthur until Arthur clanged the neck of his own against Lance’s. “And Leon, you’ll have to come too, do you play?”

Leon grinned, the kind of grin that said he was likely to destroy all of them at the sport and nodded. “I play.”

Gwaine pushed his chair back and stood, wrapping his arms around Arthur and Merlin’s necks, kissing the tops of their heads wetly. “Excellent, we’re on! The knights of the round table, now a football team to be reckoned with!” He whooped, and Percy made a show of sliding Gwaine’s beer away from him, only to be distracted when Gwaine leaned in and kissed him roughly.

Elyan sighed, long-suffering. “It’s a good thing I have insurance on the pub, this sounds like it’s going to be dangerous. They all laughed, easy and hearty, and Merlin leaned into Arthur’s side, feeling warm and happy, looking forward to the weekend.

When Merlin thought about it, it should have been predictable, but he was still surprised at the speed at which Arthur had not just learned, but excelled at football. After just a few hours of practice, he was ready to take on another team, a group that the other guys played often on their Saturday’s at the park. Arthur was darting around the pitch, dodging the other players like he’d been playing all his life, shouting excitedly when he managed to kick the ball past the goalkeeper and score his first. Merlin might have been a little frustrated that his own skills had more or less plateaued, but Arthur just looked so happy, sweaty and red-faced and beaming, that Merlin just cheered louder, stomping his feet against the bench when Arthur scored.

It really was kind of incredible to watch them play, and Merlin couldn’t help but compare it to the way they’d fought together all those years ago. They moved together effortlessly, skirting around the other team and sneaking the ball through holes in their defences that Merlin hadn’t even noticed. They communicated wordlessly as they moved down the field, Gwaine kicking the ball to Arthur without even looking at him, the other team distracted for just long enough to allow Arthur to take off down the field, leaving the defense behind him. He faked to the left and kicked to the right, and the ball soared just past the goalkeepers outstretched fingers, into the net. Arthur jumped and pumped his fist in the air, and in an instant the knights were on him, hollering as they piled on him, the game won. For a moment, Merlin cheered on the sidelines, but then Arthur called his name and waved him over, beckoning him to join the fray. Merlin jogged over and let himself be folded in, not knowing whose arms were around him or whose chest his face was pressed into, and not really caring.

The walk to Elyan’s pub was even more raucous than usual, Gwaine riding on Percy’s back for most of the way, singing snippets of victory songs until he forgot the words and started on a new one. They attracted stares, but mostly their obvious enthusiasm was infectious, passersby joining in when Gwaine dropped a lyric, or at the least, smiling as their group walked by. It was nice, more than nice, to have Arthur’s arm draped heavily over Merlin’s shoulder as he walked, Arthur doing his best to sing along with songs he’d never heard.

They crashed through the door of the pub like a hurricane, still shouting and singing as they made their way back to the table Elyan had once again reserved for them. Elyan took a break from being behind the bar to join them, carrying over trays full of pints, eliciting even more cheers from the rowdy crew. Before long they all had foamy pints set in front of them, beer sloshing onto the table as they lifted their glasses in a toast.

“To the knights of the round table, the best football time England had ever seen!” Gwaine bellowed, echoed by everyone else as their glasses clanged together. Merlin watched as Arthur took a deep swallow of his first beer in a modern pub, watching the muscles in his throat working as he drained nearly half the glass in one go.

Arthur set his glass down heavily, sighing and wiping his the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes sparkling as he smiled crookedly at Merlin. “That’s amazing! It’s so cold, and delicious.” Merlin laughed, taking a deep swallow of his own pint before leaning in to kiss Arthur’s grinning mouth.

“Oh God,” Lance groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. “Are we going to have to put up with you two as well as Percy and Gwaine over here?”

He gestured at Percy and Gwaine, Gwaine’s legs already thrown over Percy’s lap as he leaned up to rub his lips against the stubbly curve of Percy’s jaw. Percy just grinned and shrugged, wrapping his arm around Gwaine and holding him close. 

“From what I’ve seen, we’ve got a lot of work to do to live up to them.” Arthur spoke carefully, like he was considering. “What do you say, Merlin, want to see if we can compete?”

Merlin returned Arthur’s grin, going easily when Arthur pulled him snug against his body. “I think we’re up to the challenge.”

 

The weeks passed quickly and busily, and Merlin was loving every minute of showing Arthur the new world. He took him to the movies, to museums, and weekends at the football pitch became a regular occurrence once again. They watched a lot of television when they were home, Arthur developing a real taste for cartoons and afternoon chat shows. Merlin hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d kept up with the news, barely even picking up the paper until one night when he was cooking dinner, Arthur channel surfing in the living room behind him.

“Merlin! Merlin, come here!” Arthur’s voice sounded urgent, and Merlin dropped the spoon he was stirring with, hurrying into the living room.

“What is it? Are you alright?”

Arthur faintly nodded, but he looked a bit white as he pointed at the screen, his finger shaking. “Merlin, is that...who I think it is?”

Merlin turned to the television, a vaguely familiar news story about upheaval in Parliament, and then he was fairly certain his heart stopped. The presenter was saying something about a bright new politician, young but capable with exciting ideas, hoping to unite the fractured right. Merlin barely heard her speaking, the ringing in his ears only getting louder as he collapsed on the sofa next to Arthur. He recognized the face on the screen, the dark hair, the impossibly ethereal eyes, the soft, open smile that Merlin knew was hiding so much.

“Mordred.” Suddenly Merlin remembered all those months ago, turning off his television as he rushed to the first day of school and seeing something familiar in the corner of his eye. Had that been Mordred, and Merlin missed it? He wanted to kick himself for not paying more attention, but he couldn’t change that now. 

Beside him, Arthur’s mouth was set in a firm line and he had a look on his face that Merlin well knew was one of readiness. “Well, I guess we know why I came back now, don’t we?” Arthur turned to Merlin, resting a hand on his knee and squeezing gently.

“Merlin, we’ll get him this time, stop him from doing whatever it is he has planned. We won’t underestimate him, not now.”

Merlin nodded, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to believe Arthur, wanted to believe him so badly he could taste it. He took a deep breath, twining his fingers with Arthur’s. “Yeah, we’ll be ready.”

“Shall we rally the troops?” Arthur tilted his head, turning back to the television which was now playing a commercial for crisps, like it didn’t know it had just forecast possible doom for England and maybe further. 

Merlin pulled his lip in between his teeth, chewing on it for a moment. “Can’t hurt to at least let them know, even though we don’t really know anything. I’ll text them to come round after dinner, yeah?”

Arthur nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to Merlin’s tight lips. “Relax, Merlin, I’ve got my knights and I’ve got you. We’ll be alright.”

Merlin had never wanted to believe something more than he wanted to believe those words, and so he just let himself believe them, leaning into Arthur and letting the kiss grow deep, Arthur’s arms strong as they wrapped around Merlin’s shoulders. Everything was going to be alright. This time, they would be ready for whatever Mordred had to throw at them.

Merlin and Arthur ate dinner in relative silence, hands resting on the table, fingers tangled comfortingly together. The television was still on quietly in the background, not tuned to anything in particular, just enough background noise to distract Merlin from his own thoughts. He was just washing the last of the dishes when he heard a knock at the door, and Arthur went to open it, letting in the whole group of knights all at once. 

“So what’s up? Your text sounded kind of...urgent.” Lance spoke first, once they’d all piled into Merlin’s living room, too many of them for the furniture.

Merlin opened his laptop and typed in a few things, turning the screen around to face everyone else. “Arthur was watching the news earlier, and he saw something familiar. I don’t know how we’ve missed it until now but...Mordred’s back too.”

Percy, Gwaine and Leon gasped a little, their faces pulling into worried grimaces. Percy leaned in closer to Merlin’s laptop, studying the picture Merlin had pulled up. “He’s back. What do we know?”

“Not much,” Arthur shrugged. “Apparently he’s the new leader of the Conservative party, a young, exciting new face to bring them all together, far right but more liberal.” He turned to Merlin for confirmation, who nodded. 

“But that’s all we know. I mean, he’s not running on a platform of destruction or anything. If I didn’t know what...well, his ideas seem sound now, even good.” Merlin reached over to squeeze Arthur’s thigh, for his own comfort as much as for Arthur’s. “But we know what happened before, how he seemed in the beginning, and what happened.”

“So what can we do?” Leon leaned forward, his brow furrowed, instantly in strategy mode.

“I think we just need to watch and see where this goes for now, gather information. We can’t exactly charge in and say that Mordred is going to destroy England, our proof is not exactly...provable.” Arthur looked from one of his knights to the other. “So I want you all to read the papers and watch the news, and go on these things-” he waved his hand over Merlin’s laptop, “- and find out whatever you can.”

Arthur next turned to Lance, giving him a light smile. “Lance, I might have a special assignment for you, if you think you’re up to it.”

Lance nodded. “Of course, Arthur, anything.”

“Good. Merlin and I were thinking that since you have less...baggage with Mordred that some of us, you might be a good choice to keep an even closer eye on him. Merlin did some searching, and found that his campaign is accepting volunteers. Would you be willing to work for him in his office, see what you can learn?”

“I think that sounds like a great idea, I’ll call them in the morning.” Lance reached out to accept a slip of paper with some information scribbled hastily on it, and tucked it on his pocket.

“So, basically, we have to sit around and wait for him to do something?” Gwaine’s voice was clipped, and his eyes flashed even as Percy rested a calming hand on his shoulder. “We know he’s going to do something, that has to be why we’re all here now. We can’t let him fool us, not again.”

“We won’t, Gwaine, I promise. Believe me, I don’t want him to outwit us anymore than you do.” Arthur sat up straight, looking every bit the king from the firm set of his jaw to the strength of his shoulders. “We just need to be strategic, make sure we know what we’re up against before we go charging in. That’s why we’re going to gather as much information as we can, and have Lance keep an eye on him from the inside. If he makes a move, we’ll be ready.”

Gwaine’s jaw was still clenched, his fists tight against his thighs but he nodded, sitting back a little. He wasn’t happy, but Merlin knew he still trusted Arthur more than almost anyone else, and he would follow him into whatever this became, as they all would. The room was quiet now, everyone just taking in what they’d learned and trying to make sense of it, Lance and Elyan especially, as they hadn’t been around to witness Mordred working with Morgana to bring Camelot to its knees, ending Arthur’s life all those years ago.

Merlin let himself slump into Arthur’s side finally, the warmth of Arthur’s arm heavy where it rested on his shoulders as he observed the quiet conversations happening around him. Lance and Leon were talking, and from the furrow of Lance’s brow, Merlin assumed he was getting all the gritty details of Mordred’s last stand from Leon. Percy and Gwaine were sitting together, of course, but even Gwaine was quiet, and Merlin couldn’t help but notice how tightly he was holding onto Percy’s hand, or the soothing way Percy combed his fingers through Gwaine’s hair. Elyan was seated on the floor in front of them, his head tilted to rest against Percy’s leg, like he just needed the touch, and Percy obliged, resting his free hand heavily on Elyan’s shoulder.

It was getting late, and Merlin felt more tired than he had in weeks, wrung out and exhausted. He yawned despite himself, smiling tiredly as he pushed himself to his feet. “Shall I get the pillows and blankets?”

There was a pause, and then one by one, each of the knights nodded, none of them wanting to leave much like those first nights after Arthur’s return. They all felt better when they were close, especially with the worry of Mordred hanging over their heads. Merlin passed out blankets and pillows, new ones he’d bought after the last time so that no one would have to wrap themselves in something too short or too thin. He bid them all goodnight, lingering at the edge of the room for a moment waiting for Arthur to catch up to him. 

Arthur smiled and wrapped his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and guided him down the hall into the bedroom, pulling back the covers. Merlin rolled his eyes but let Arthur pull his t-shirt over his head, and tug his jeans down. He slipped naked under the covers, snuggling down when Arthur pulled the blankets tight up over him. He watched as Arthur undressed, walking around to his side of the bed. Arthur smirked as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers, tugging them and his boxers down in one movement. Merlin was exhausted, but he couldn’t help the hunger that started to build in his belly at the mere sight of Arthur’s body, strong and solid and just a little soft in all the right places. Arthur crawled under the covers and tucked his body close to Merlin’s, the cock warm and soft against the side of Merlin’s hip.

Merlin sighed when Arthur leaned in and pressed a kiss just underneath Merlin’s ear, lingering long enough to feel Merlin’s pulse. 

“Are you too tired? I know it’s been a long day.” Arthur curved his fingers around Merlin’s hip, rubbing them in soothing circles.

Merlin arched into the touch like a cat, lifting his hand to run his fingers through Arthur’s hair. “Never too tired for you.”

He felt Arthur’s mouth curve into a smile against his skin, and then Arthur’s teeth scraping over his jaw. “Let me take care of you.” Arthur soothed the gentle bite with his tongue, kissing across Merlin’s jaw until he reached his lips, kissing him softly until Merlin made a greedy noise in the back of his throat, fisting his hand in Arthur’s hard until Arthur deepened the kiss.

Merlin was nearly breathless already, Arthur’s body a comforting, heavy weight against him that was making his blood burn. Arthur stroked a hand down Merlin’s body, over his chest, down his side, over Merlin’s hip and onto his thigh, over and over again. Each touch made Merlin arch, his nerves flaring until he was nearly whimpering into Arthur’s mouth. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he’d managed to work Merlin into a tight ball of need, but it had been a long day and touch always made Merlin feel better. Especially when it was Arthur’s strong, rough hands teasing over the sensitive skin of Merlin’s inner thighs.

“Arthur.” Merlin let his thighs fall open, an invitation that Arthur took gladly, settling himself between them. His eyes sparkled as he looked down at Merlin, his lips curved up in a little grin before he leaned back in for another kiss.

“What,” Arthur asked between words as he kissed his way down Merlin’s throat, “do you want me to do?” He scraped his teeth along Merlin’s collarbone, and Merlin gasped, arching off the bed into Arthur’s mouth. “Anything, Merlin, just ask.”

Merlin’s mouth was dry and his head was spinning, and Arthur’s mouth closing around his nipple and sucking lightly wasn’t helped. “Your mouth.” Even to his own ears, Merlin’s voice sounded rough and needy, and he might have cringed if Arthur’s teeth hadn’t dug into his nipple just enough to make him moan instead. “I want your mouth, Arthur, please.”

Arthur makes a noise against Merlin’s chest that Merlin can’t quite pin down, somewhere between a laugh and a whimper, but then his teeth were digging into the jut of Merlin’s hipbone, and Merlin couldn’t think of anything else. He groaned as Arthur swiped his tongue over the tender place where his thigh met his body, pushing Merlin’s thighs apart and settling down deeper between them. Merlin nearly choked when Arthur’s tongue swept across his bollocks, and he slapped his hand across his mouth, suddenly remembering his living room full of knights. Arthur was relentless though, licking up Merlin’s hard shaft in broad, slow strokes until Merlin was panting before finally taking the head in his mouth. He knew exactly where to press his tongue firmly and where to flick it softly to take Merlin apart, and he didn’t hold back or waste any time. 

Merlin was already riding the edge when Arthur finally, _finally_ slid his mouth down Merlin’s cock, taking it deep. Without any direction from his brain, Merlin’s hips thrust up, and he felt the head of his cock bump against the back of Arthur’s throat, felt the momentary shiver that ran through Arthur when his air was cut off. Merlin stammered out an apology but Arthur didn’t even pull off, just tapped Merlin’s hip and looked up at him as best he could, urging him on. Merlin forgot to cover his mouth this time when he groaned, instead fisting his hands in Arthur’s hair and holding him still as he pushed his cock in and out of Arthur’s hot, welcoming mouth.

It had all started to sweet and gentle, Arthur just wanting to take care of Merlin but now Merlin’s heart was hammering in his chest as he thrust into Arthur’s mouth, and he could feel Arthur’s cock hard and leaking against his calf. He was panting, his fingers pulling hard at Arthur’s hair. Merlin could see tears welling at the corners of Arthur’s eyes, from both the fullness of Merlin’s cock pressing deep into his throat and the pain of Merlin’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Merlin dropped one hand to brush away a tear with his thumb, his hand shaking.

“Arthur, please.” Merlin didn’t even know what he was asking for, didn’t know how much more Arthur could give him, but he groaned as he felt Arthur slide a finger into his mouth alongside Merlin’s cock, getting it nice and wet before circling it around Merlin’s hole, pressing against the muscle. Merlin cried out, loud enough that surely the knights in his living room at heard him, pushing his hips into the touch, his cock deep in Arthur’s throat as Arthur pressed his finger into Merlin’s hole, crooking it and rubbing just there.

Merlin came with a shout, his fingers tightening in Arthur’s hair as he spilled down Arthur’s throat, Arthur’s tongue working over him and his finger working inside him milking his orgasm for all it was worth. Arthur’s tongue soothed over Merlin’s sensitive flesh until Merlin was squirming, breathing hard and still grinding his hips down against Arthur’s finger, still inside him. His nerves were thrumming, fingers and toes clenching, but he wanted more.

“Will you...Arthur.” Merlin’s voice was rough, raspy and wrecked and he blinked his eyes open, looking down at Arthur. Arthur’s hair was a mess, his lips swollen and wet, and the sight was enough to make Merlin moan, his spent cock giving a weak twitch. “I want more, you inside me, please.”

Arthur’s finger stuttered inside him, and Arthur’s eyes flashed with hunger. He leaned forward, pushing a second finger into Merlin’s body as his lips met Merlin’s, kissing him hungrily. Merlin gasped into Arthur’s mouth, tasting himself on Arthur’s tongue as he arched against Arthur’s body, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s back and holding him close. Arthur worked him open quickly, Merlin’s muscles giving way easily, loose and sated from his orgasm. Merlin’s heart was still pounding like it was too big for his chest, and he needed Arthur inside him or he was sure he’d explode.

Thankfully, Arthur was on the same page, his cock rock-hard against Merlin’s hip, breath hot against Merlin’s cheek when he pulled back. Merlin couldn’t quite hold back the whimper when Arthur pulled his fingers from Merlin’s body, his hole twitching, briefly, horribly empty. He pressed his arm over his eyes, dragging in a deep, shaky breath until Arthur was back, pressing lube-slick fingers inside him, Merlin’s legs falling slutty-wide. 

Merlin let out a sound that was nearly a sob when Arthur’s cock finally pressed against him, pushing in slow and easy, inflaming Merlin’s already wrung out nerves even more. Arthur breathed out shakily, his eyes fluttering closed, his lips curving into a wry smile.

“Not going to last.” Arthur sounded even more wrecked that Merlin, his throat rough from Merlin’s cock. Merlin just nodded, wrapping his legs around Arthur’s waist and urging him on. His own cock was half-hard between their bellies, but there wasn’t any real urgency to it, his energy all focused on the feeling of Arthur moving inside him.

Arthur thrust into Merlin faster and deeper, the bed rocking underneath them. It felt like the first time they’d been together after Arthur’s return all over again, like they couldn’t be close enough together, needing to prove once again that they were real and not going anywhere. Merlin felt Arthur’s cock push deep into him, so deep that Merlin nearly forgot how to breathe and then Arthur was coming, his head dropping to Merlin’s shoulder as he did, muffling his scream by sinking his teeth into the flesh there. The pain shocked Merlin, his body arching against Arthur, and Arthur caught on quickly, sucking a dark bruise into Merlin’s skin, scraping his teeth over the spot again, the sweet pain overwhelming Merlin’s nerves completely. He was surprised by his own orgasm, hadn’t even really noticed he was close again, so focused on Arthur, but then he slumped back against the pillows, feeling completely boneless and wrung out.

They lay together quietly for awhile, Arthur tracing his fingers over the mark he’d left just above Merlin’s collarbone that was sure to be a lovely dark purple bruise by morning. As Merlin’s heart slowed, his mind sped up, remembering what he’d managed to forget thanks to Arthur’s skilled mouth, fingers and cock.

“Merlin, be quiet. I think the neighbours can hear you thinking.” Arthur’s voice was tired but fond, and he lifted up on one elbow to look down at Merlin. “Everything will be fine. We have a plan, and we can’t do anything tonight anyways. So, sleep, yes?” He ran his hand down Merlin’s chest soothingly, keeping it up until Merlin couldn’t help but relax.

Merlin nodded, tugging the blankets back up over them, not caring about the mess they hadn’t bothered to clean up though he knew he would in the morning. “Yeah, sleep.” He rolled over and let Arthur wrap his arms around him, Arthur’s face buried in the soft hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck, pressing soft kisses there.

“Good night, Merlin.”

“Good night, Arthur.”

 

Merlin woke up anxious the next morning, and every morning for the next few weeks, waiting for Mordred to make a move, to do something that that showed his real intent. He watched the news religiously, combing every newspaper he could get his hands on, even dug through the depths of some of the craziest websites he could find, but he always came up empty-handed. It seemed that, on the outside at least, Mordred really was as good as he seemed, and people really were excited about the possibility of his election.

“Lance, have you found anything?” Merlin asked through a mouthful of pizza during one of their regular meetings to discuss their findings.

Lance shook his head, furrowing his brow. “Nothing interesting.” He’d been volunteering at Mordred’s offices for a few weeks, starting out just making phone calls but thanks to his abundant charm and skill, he’d managed to to work his way up, working as one of Mordred’s assistants. “If it wasn’t for what you’d all told me, I would swear he really had England’s best interests at heart. His ideas really do sound good.”

Gwaine scoffed, taking a swallow of his beer. “Don’t fall for it, Lance. He’s all innocent eyes and smiles now, but we know better.”

Lance looked a bit skeptical, but he nodded. “There is an event coming up in a few weeks, a big fundraising dinner.”

Merlin perked up, the wheels in his head suddenly turning at top speed. “Could we go?”

“Merlin, why would we want to go to something to _support_ Mordred?” Arthur tilted his head, wrinkling his brow.

“Well, I was thinking. We all remember everything, but does he?” Merlin was talking quickly, excited.

Gwaine wiggled out from under Percy’s arm and leaned forward, nodding along. “That’s actually a good idea. Maybe if he meets us, he’ll remember and it’ll push things along.”

“You think making him remember what he did will, what, suddenly make him evil now?” Leon didn’t exactly look convinced, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down.

Merlin shrugged. “Not exactly, no. But maybe. I don’t know what I think will happen, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

Arthur spoke again, reaching over to grip Merlin’s thigh. “I agree with Merlin, I think it’s definitely worth a try. We’ll all go. Lance, can you get us in?”

“Of course. I’ll book a table and let you guys know the cost. It won’t exactly be cheap.”

Merlin waved a hand in the air, grinning crookedly. “Don’t worry about that, I can cover it. Immortality has some perks.”  
Elyan barked out a laugh, tilting his beer in Merlin’s direction. “So I should be putting all the beer you lads drink at my pub on your tab instead of Gwaine’s then.”

Gwaine laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, my role is to get all my mates as drunk as possible whenever possible, I’m good for that.”

The mood in the room lightened a bit after that, and Merlin felt himself relax just a little. He sat back and let Arthur dig his fingers into the base of his neck, massaging away some of his tension while the other guys discussed plans for the fundraiser, Percy grumbling about having to wear a suit until Gwaine whispered something in his ear that made him go quiet and a bit red. After weeks of research that felt a bit futile, Merlin finally felt like this was something concrete, something that might tell them something real and he was nervous and excited all at once to finally be _doing_ something. 

Time passed in a blur in the weeks leading up to the fundraiser. Merlin kept busy by continuing his research, sometimes sitting up so late on his computer that Arthur had to physically drag him to bed. When the night finally came, he was a ball of nervous energy, darting around his flat straightening things for no reason, his hands shaking as he tried to tie Arthur’s brand new bow tie into something resembling a decent knot. Arthur placed his hands over Merlin’s, stilling them.

“Merlin. Relax.” He leaned in a pressed a soft kiss to Merlin’s mouth, but Merlin’s heart was still racing. “What’s the worst that could happen tonight?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, and Arthur laughed. “Okay, well. I highly doubt he’s going to recognize me and pull a sword out from under his suit, yes? He’s still trying to win an election.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” Merlin untied Arthur’s tie and tried again, his hands more still now. “There, you look great.”

Arthur turned and looked at himself in the mirror on the back of Merlin’s wardrobe, turning sideway as he took himself in. “It sure is different from what we wore back in Camelot.” He ran his hands down his chest, smoothing out his jacket. “Nice though.”

He turned back to Merlin, his mouth quirking up at the corners as he reached out to run his hands down Merlin’s arms. “Suits you better than anything I ever made you wear, you look...” Arthur crinkled his brow, as if he was searching for the right word before grinning wide. “You look hot.”

Merlin laughed and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Arthur’s mouth. “Thanks. Now come on, or we’ll be late.”

 

The lobby was full of people bustling around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows, big fake smiles on every face Merlin could see. He didn’t think he’d ever felt quite as out of place as he did right now, awkwardly fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket as he scanned the crowd for signs of Mordred.

“Relax, Merlin.” Arthur bumped his shoulder against Merlin’s, smiling a wonderfully real smile. “Once Percy, Gwaine and Elyan get here, we’ll head into the banquet hall. Lance said he got us a table right up front.”

Merlin leaned into Arthur’s body for a moment rolling his eyes. “Wonderful, because I want to be _closer_ to Mordred.”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand, but before he could say anything in response, the other guys pushed through the crowd led by Gwaine who had a huge smile on his face.

“Looking good, Merlin!” Gwaine reached out to straighten Merlin’s lapels, and then turned to Arthur. “And Arthur, modern fashion suits you, my friend.”

Merlin laughed, feeling himself relax by measures, the mere presence of the knights and Gwaine in particular soothing him. Behind Gwaine Percy was fidgeting, his mouth turned down in a little frown as he tugged at his suit jacket which was stretched tightly around his biceps. “You look comfortable, Percy.”

Percy scowled a bit, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Suits aren’t generally designed for people built like me, unless I want to spend my year’s salary on something custom.”

Gwaine ran his hands over Percy’s chest and down his arms, pausing to squeeze at Percy’s biceps, turning his scowl into a little smile. “I love my Hulk in his suit. And I’ll love taking it off of him later even more.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Percy’s cheeks flushed, like he still wasn’t immune to Gwaine’s lewdness after all this time.

“Alright, alright, let’s save that for later.” Elyan chuckled, sticking his arm between Gwaine and Percy. “It’s about time for this show to start, let’s head in and find our table.”

True to Lance’s word, they were seated right up near the front, just one table back from the head table. Merlin could see Mordred’s place card, and seeing his name right there in black and white was a bit startling. He sat down a bit heavily in the chair marked with his own name, reaching out and draining the water glass set in front of his place. He desperately wanted something harder, but he needed to be alert tonight, no matter how much he wanted to take the edge off.

Merlin was quiet even as Arthur and the knights chatted around him, Merlin just watching as all the people from the lobby filtered into the banquet hall, taking their seats. Lance waved to them as he entered the room from the front, his face settling into an unreadable expression as he surveyed the room himself. He stuck his head back in through the door he’d just come out of, and in a few moments a young woman entered the banquet hall, impossible smile stretched tight across her face. Merlin’s breath caught in his throat because of course he knew who she was, of course she would be working so close to Mordred. Arthur reached under the table and squeeze Merlin’s thigh, and when Merlin turned to look at him, his mouth was set in an expressionless line. The woman stepped up to the podium at the front of the room, not far from their table, and in just a few moments, the entire room was quiet and attentive.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you all here tonight to celebrate the potential of a wonderful new voice in the political world. My name is Kara, and I’ve been lucky enough to be heading his campaign for the past year, and I am so grateful that we’ve gotten this far. We couldn’t have done it without all of you, but we’re not done yet. We need that final push to get us over the finish line, and we’re hoping to get there tonight!” A soft round of applause went around the room, and Kara smiled even wider, tilting her head in false shyness.

“But you don’t want to hear from me, so let’s introduce the man of the evening, shall we? Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mordred Cerdan!” Kara stepped aside and then he was there, striding to the podium with purpose, his ethereal eyes sparkling, the smile on his face looking easy and not at all false. He brushed his dark hair back from his face with practiced ease, waving at the crowd until the cheers slowed and quieted. Merlin’s heart was pounding and he was digging his teeth into his lip so hard he was sure he was about to taste blood. All this time he’d thought maybe they’d get here and they’d have been wrong somehow, that it couldn’t really have been Mordred. It was unmistakably him however, and Merlin couldn’t help but flinch as his familiar, smooth voice filled the room.

“I would like to begin by thanking you all from coming tonight. It means a lot to know that I have so much support in this country that I love so much.” Mordred paused, looking out over the crowd and smiled. “Each and everyone of you has played an important role in getting me where I am tonight, and I am eternally grateful.”

He paused again, this time looking down at the tables right in the front, and Merlin could tell the exact moment that he saw them. Mordred’s careful politician smile falter a bit, not enough that anyone else would notice, but Merlin was so focused on Mordred’s face, he saw every little twitch. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and his mouth fell open, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he locked eyes with Merlin, his gaze sweeping around their table and obviously recognizing each of them in turn. The whole exchange took a second, maybe two before Mordred had schooled his face back into its perfect mask, but it felt like an eternity to Merlin.

“Did that look like he recognized us to you?” Merlin spoke quietly to Arthur, feeling breathless.

Arthur nodded, balling up a napkin in his hand. “I can’t imagine what else that could mean.”

“Well then. Tonight should be interesting, shouldn’t it?” Gwaine leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a rueful smile on his face. 

The rest of them were silent then, just nodding in agreement. Interesting was one word for it. 

 

Mordred’s speech went by in a blur, Merlin’s eyes trained on him, but his ears not really absorbing the words. He was sure Mordred was saying all the right things, based on the applause that filled the room every time he finished making a grand proclamation. From time to time Mordred’s gaze fell on Arthur and their table again, pausing just a second longer than necessary, but Merlin couldn’t place the look that passed over Mordred’s face each time. It didn’t look malicious, more like confusion maybe, or something close to it. Regardless of Merlin’s feelings towards Mordred, he couldn’t begrudge him some confusion.

Dinner went by just as quickly, the food bland in Merlin’s mouth. The knights made a valiant effort to keep up conversation at the table, but even Gwaine couldn’t get more than a tight smile out of Merlin, or get him to take his eyes off of Mordred for more than a moment.

“What’s your plan?” Arthur whispered in Merlin’s ear as the dessert plates were finally being cleared away.

Merlin shrugged, because really, he hadn’t thought about what he would _actually_ do, only what he wished he could do when faced with Mordred. “I’m not sure. Just...keep an eye on him for now I guess.”

Arthur furrowed his brow, turning to look at where Mordred was seated. “I want to talk to him.”

“And say what?” Merlin knew he sounded a bit hysterical, but he couldn’t imagine what Arthur could possibly want to say to Mordred.

Arthur paused, pressing his lips together, and Merlin knew he wasn’t going to like what Arthur had to say. “I’m not really sure. Until I saw him, I was sure of what I wanted to do, that I wanted to stop him or make him pay. I know that Mordred is the one that killed me. I know he betrayed me and Camelot. But Merlin...if I hadn’t killed that girl he loved, forced his hand. Maybe he never would have joined Morgana.” There was real worry on Arthur’s face, his mouth drawn down in a frown that Merlin desperately wanted to kiss away. 

“Arthur...what Mordred did, none of it was your fault. Mordred was destined to be your undoing, the dragon told me that all along. Now he’s back to live out his destiny again, and we have to stop him.” Merlin left unsaid that he should’ve stopped Mordred before he ever had the chance to kill Arthur, should’ve taken one of so many opportunities he had to do so, but failed. Arthur had never blamed him, not once, but Merlin still blamed himself every time he thought about it.

Arthur shrugged, his eyes wide and a bit watery as he looked at Merlin, reaching out to hold his hand tightly. “But we can try to change destiny, yes? I know that he’s the reason I’ve come back, I can feel it, but what if I’m not supposed to kill him or destroy him, but...change him. Or rather keep him the way he is right now, before he has the chance to fall to the dark.”

Together they turned to watch Mordred for a few moments, smiling and shaking hands as well-wishers came up to his table. He was clearly charming, laughing easily with both people he knew as well as strangers, and it was no real surprise he’d climbed so high on the political ladder. Merlin remembered how quickly Arthur had become fond of him, how close they’d gotten even as Merlin was trying desperately to come between them, and he shook his head clearing it a bit and remembering back even further. He remembered the young boy with the big, scared eyes, and wondered what would have happened if he’d listened to the dragon’s warnings in the first place, if Arthur would have lived to rule Camelot until he was an old man. But it was the memory of that boy that made Merlin sigh, squeezing his eyes shut briefly.

“Maybe you’re right, perhaps that is what you’re meant to do.” Merlin turned to Arthur and smiled weakly. “I guess we should try anyway, yeah?”

Arthur smiled back at him, and Merlin could tell Arthur knew how hard it was for Merlin to say those words when the memory of Arthur dying in his arms was still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. “We have to try.”

“Can I butt in?” Gwaine leaned onto the table, his head appearing behind Arthur’s shoulder. “I don’t think I have to tell you how much I hate what Mordred did to Arthur and to the rest of us.”

Merlin nodded, knowing that he himself was the only one who carried more guilt about what had happened than Gwaine.

 

“And you know I want nothing more than to see him pay for what he did.” Gwaine looked over at Mordred, and then back to Merlin and Arthur. “But if you do anything without talking to him, without seeing if you can change his destiny, well. You wouldn’t be the great King Arthur and Merlin, would you?”

Merlin and Arthur shared a soft look and a smile, and Merlin knew that Gwaine was right. “I guess you’re right, Gwaine.”

Gwaine shrugged, leaning back underneath Percy’s arm. “This one’s calmed me down, I suppose. Makes me think before I act. Doesn’t mean I won’t do whatever it takes, if it comes to that.”

Arthur smiled, reaching out to squeeze Gwaine’s shoulder. “Well, I think we all hope it doesn’t come to that.” He looked over, saw Mordred standing and getting ready to work the room now that dinner was over. “Come on, Merlin. Let’s go talk to him.”

Merlin took Arthur’s hand and stood, Percy, Gwaine, Elyan and Leon wishing them luck as they headed out into the crowd, taking their place at the outer edge of the circle of people already surrounding Mordred. He worked the crowd like an expert, sidestepping awkward conversations, and bowing his head humbly at compliments. It felt like it took moments and hours all at once, but finally, the crowd had thinned enough that Mordred saw them, his eyes widening briefly before he collected himself. He excused himself politely from the conversation he was in with an older woman dripping in jewellery, whispering something to the aide standing next to him.

It was like watching something in slow-motion as Mordred approached them, pausing briefly to shake a few hands, and then he was in front of them, alive and breathing, and Merlin curled his hands into tight fists at his side, unsure of what to do.

“Um...hello. It’s...been a long time.” Mordred smiled somewhat shakily, reaching his hand out.

Arthur paused for only a moment before taking it, but he didn’t return Mordred’s smile. “It certainly has.”

Merlin held his breath for a few long moments as they were all silent, looking at each other and trying to figure out what was supposed to happen next. He was just about to ask what Mordred remembered when Mordred started speaking, fast and low enough that no one around them would be likely to hear.

“Arthur, Merlin, I am so sorry. Until tonight, until I saw you I didn’t remember anything but now...now I remember it all.” He paused, tucking an errant curl behind his ear. “I never meant to let it go so far, to get so entangled with...with Morgana. I don’t know how to apologize for what I did, and you’re back, standing in front of me...” Mordred’s face went white, and Arthur reached out to awkwardly pat his shoulder.

“Yes, well, we’ve all been a bit confused about that part of it, so you’re not alone there.”

Merlin just stared. Of all the ways he’d thought this confrontation might go, an apology which actually sounded kind of sincere had not been one of them. 

Mordred sucked in a deep breath, casting his gaze around the room before he continued. “Can we...could we talk sometime? Not here, we can’t. But I have things I’d like to say.”

Arthur turned to Merlin and raised an eyebrow in question, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you think, Merlin?”

There was a lump in Merlin’s throat that was making it hard to swallow or speak, but he dragged his eyes away from Arthur’s and studied Mordred’s face, searching it for any sign that he was lying. Merlin looked for longer than was necessary really, trying to find something that he just couldn’t see, and finally he took a breath and nodded. “Okay. But only if we can all be there.” He gestured back towards their table where Lance had now joined the others who were all watching them closely.

Mordred nodded quickly, the colour bleeding back into his face. “Yes, yes, fine. You name the place.”

Merlin scribbled the address for Elyan’s pub on a napkin, and Mordred folded it carefully and tucked it into his pocket, nodding.

“I’ll have to check my schedule, things are a bit...crazy right now.” Mordred’s eyes flashed, and Merlin could tell he was just barely holding back a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Just tell Lance, he’ll pass along whenever you’re free to us. We should be free.” Arthur turned to gesture to Lance, and Mordred opened his mouth briefly before closing it again.

“Lancelot. Of course.” Mordred shook his head, smiling a little. “That probably should have clued me in earlier, shouldn’t it?”

Merlin shrugged, still feeling a bit on edge. “It looks like it’s only Arthur that can make people remember.” He turned to give Arthur a quick smile, feeling better when Arthur returned it, reaching out to run a hand down the back of Merlin’s arm. 

Mordred tilted his head, an odd, soft look settling on his features. “Yes, well, Arthur, you were also something special, weren’t you?”

Arthur chuckled softly, seemingly bemused, shaking his head. “Something like that. So, we’ll talk to you soon, yes? Better let you get back to your people.”

Mordred startled, looking around like he’d almost forgotten where he was. “Yes, yes, I should do that.” He stuck his hand out again for them to shake, and this time Merlin took it after Arthur, Mordred’s hand cool and a bit damp in his. “I’ll see you soon.”

They nodded at each other and in moment Mordred was absorbed back into the crowd, though Merlin noted he didn’t look as easily comfortable as he had before. Merlin and Arthur headed back to their table, and were greeted with wide eyes and eager questions. Sinking heavily into his chair, Merlin let Arthur field the questions, lifting a hand to silence Gwaine’s protests about meeting with Mordred at the pub.

“I know I said you should talk to him, but he’s not your friend Arthur, not anymore. I’m all for stopping him from becoming...well, evil, but that doesn’t mean we invite him for a pint.”

“I understand, Gwaine, I do. But Elyan’s pub feels like the safest place to talk with him. I don’t want to bring him to Merlin’s home, and the pub is public, and you’ll all be there, yes?” Arthur looked around the table, and each of the knights nodded.

“Of course we’ll be there, Arthur. We always will.” Leon reach across the table to curl his fingers around Arthur’s wrist, squeezing. 

Gwaine huffed, pushing his hair back from his eyes. “You know I’ll be there, even if I disagree with what you’re doing. Maybe especially if I disagree.”

Arthur smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Thank you, Gwaine. It’s always good to know you’ll stand behind me even when I make stupid decisions.”

“That’s what being a knight of the round table is all about.” Gwaine grinned, gesturing to the table they all sat around, laughter bubbling up out of each of them, tension evaporating.

“Okay, I think Merlin and I are going to go home. Lance, you’ll find out from Mordred when he’s available and let the rest of us know, yes?” Arthur stood, resting his hand on the small of Merlin’s back when Merlin rose to join him.

Lance nodded, scanning the room briefly to locate Mordred. “No problem. I think I know when he has a free evening this week, so it shouldn’t be long. Have a good night guys, I’ve got to go back to work, but I’ll see you soon.” They all bid their goodnights, and soon, Merlin and Arthur were tucked in the back of a taxi on their way home. Merlin was suddenly exhausted, and he let himself slump against Arthur’s side, his head resting on Arthur’s shoulder. The ride was short and they were both quiet, just absorbing the events of the evening and thinking about what was to come. It wasn’t until they were finally shut safely inside Merlin’s flat that he spoke, reaching up to help loosen the knot on Arthur’s tie as they kicked their shoes off.

“Do you think Mordred is sincerely sorry?” Merlin’s forehead was wrinkled with worry, and Arthur smiled as he reached out and rubbed the wrinkles away with his thumb.

“I don’t know. It seemed like he was. I think he deserves a chance to tell us his side of the story.” Arthur pushed Merlin backwards down the hall towards his bedroom, pulling his own tie off over his head and starting to unbutton his shirt.

Merlin shook his head, a little bit in disbelief. “I don’t know if I’d be so generous with the man who ran you with through with an enchanted sword.”

Arthur shrugged, flicking the light on in Merlin’s bedroom as they walked through the door, then cupping his hand around the back of Merlin’s head and tipping him up to kiss him. “If it had been you, that died in my arms...” Arthur spoke softly, his words muffled a bit against Merlin’s skin. “I’d probably have a hard time forgiving the man behind it.”

Merlin made a broken sound in the back of his throat at that, clutching his fingers into Arthur’s suit jacket as Arthur bent to drag his lips over Merlin’s jaw and down his throat. 

“You really do look good in this suit. I almost don’t want to take it off you.” Arthur grinned against Merlin’s throat as he tugged Merlin’s tie off, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders. “Almost.”

Happy enough with the change of subject, Merlin slid his hands inside Arthur’s jacket and tugged it off, unbuttoning the last of the buttons on his shirt and letting that slide off too. “You do too. And it’s much easier to get you out of than your old ceremonial garb.” He guided Arthur back towards the bed, hooking his fingers through Arthur’s belt loops to hold their hips close together until he felt Arthur’s knees bump against the bed. He made quick work of Arthur’s belt and zipper, shoving his trousers down over his hips, letting his hands roam over Arthur’s strong back, digging his fingers into the curve of his arse.

Arthur pressed back into the touch, murmuring, and then leaned in with a wicked grin on his face. “You know what we haven’t done since I’ve been back...” He grabbed Merlin’s wrist and guided his hand lower, until Merlin’s fingers were just brushing against his hole, sighing when Merlin pressed just a little harder.

“Yeah?” Merlin was a bit breathless already, the _want_ suddenly feeling like a physical weight on his chest. 

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, flicking Merlin’s belt open and yanking his trousers down over his slim hips. 

Merlin stepped out of his trousers and toed off his socks, tangling his hand in Arthur’s hair and kissing him fiercely. “Lay down, I’ll be right there.” He watched for a moment as Arthur stretched out on the bed, wondering if he’d ever get sick of watching the way Arthur’s muscles moved under his skin. He didn’t think so, not with the way the light played across Arthur’s back, pale, smooth skin marked from battles Merlin could still name.

He stepped over their discarded clothes, retrieving their bottle of lube from the corner Arthur had tossed it into the last time. He climbed onto the bed and crawled between Arthur’s spread legs, leaning up to kiss him, Arthur’s hand curling around the back of Merlin’s neck to deepen the kiss. Merlin flicked open the lube and pulled away from Arthur’s mouth just long enough to drizzle it over his fingers. Arthur spread his legs wider, bending one at the knee, opening himself for Merlin, and Merlin couldn’t hold back the groan as he circled his fingers around Arthur’s hole, bending to kiss him deeply as he pushed one inside.

Arthur hissed a bit into Merlin’s mouth, rocking up against his finger, reaching up to dig his fingers into Merlin’s shoulders. “Oh _god_ ,” Arthur breathed. “I’d forgotten how good that is.”

Merlin couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his face, pulling his finger out before pushing it back in slowly. “Yeah?”

Arthur huffed out a soft laugh, tilting his hips up to ask for more. Merlin pushed in a second finger, twisting them until Arthur’s laugh turned into a gasp, a flush spreading across his chest. “So good.”

It was almost too much for Merlin to take in, Arthur flushed beneath him, writhing already just from his fingers. Merlin’s cock was hard against his thigh, and he wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing just a little, his thumb circling the head. He bit his lip to hold back a moan, and pushed a third finger into Arthur, feeling the tightness starting to give way.

It wasn’t long before Arthur was begging, panting and rocking his hips down to pull Merlin’s fingers in deeper, slinging a leg out to hook around Merlin’s hips to pull him closer. Another time, Merlin might drag it out, go slow enough that Arthur went a bit mad, but tonight, he couldn’t. Until he’d gotten his fingers inside of Arthur and seen how he’d reacted, he’d forgotten just how much he’d loved being on this side of things too, and he _wanted_.

Arthur groaned when Merlin slid his fingers out, rubbing a hand over his face, his hips still rocking up into nothing while Merlin slicked his cock. When Merlin’s cock was finally pressed against Arthur’s hole, they both went still and quiet, and Merlin pushed in slow and steady, stretching Arthur open so slowly that neither of them could drag in a breath. Arthur’s leg pulled Merlin forward until he was as deep inside as he could get, their bodies snug against one another, Arthur’s legs spread wide, his fingers digging hard into Merlin’s back.

Merlin laughed, a little hysterical, and dropped his head to rest it against Arthur’s chest for a moment. “I think I could stay here forever and I’d be happy.”

Arthur kissed Merlin’s sweaty forehead, open-mouthed and sloppy, rocking his hips up to get him to move. “I think you’d get hungry.”

Merlin groaned at the feeling of Arthur’s body drawing him deeper, muscles clenching, making him feel impossibly tighter, and he finally started to move, staying buried deep in Arthur’s body. “I suppose so,” Merlin huffed out, struck breathless by the feeling of Arthur’s slick muscles around him. He captured Arthur’s lips with his own, kissing him messily as he kept moving inside him, slow and deep and easy, heat curling comfortably low in his belly.  
They moved together like that, easy and familiar, Arthur rocking his hips up to meet Merlin’s thrusts, Merlin’s cock rubbing deep and perfect inside Arthur’s body. Merlin felt his climax rolling over him like a wave, could see it coming well before it hit him, but was completely helpless to do anything about it. He dropped his head and moaned wordlessly into Arthur’s shoulder, mouthing against his sweaty skin as his cock twitched, spilling hot and deep inside of Arthur.

Merlin pulled out a bit reluctantly, breathing heavily as he sat back on his knees, Arthur spread out in front of him, cock curved hard against his belly, Merlin’s come starting to slip from his arse. Nudging Arthur to shove up the bed a bit, Merlin bent down, pushing Arthur’s thighs up and back until he could get right between them, swiping his tongue down Arthur’s cock, over his bollocks and then lower, licking up the trail of his own come. Arthur nearly shouted, his hips thrusting into nothing at the first touch of Merlin’s tongue on his sensitive hole, but Merlin just grinned, holding Arthur’s hips down as well as he could before moving back in.

He licked a broad stripe over Arthur’s hole, running his tongue around the slick, puffy edges before plunging it in, tasting the plasticky tang of the lube underneath the salt-bitterness of his come. He pushed three fingers deep into Arthur’s hole, licked around them and crooking them, pressing until Arthur was moaning, holding his own thighs back with fingers gone white from the effort. Merlin kept his fingers pressed deep inside Arthur, shifting up to take Arthur’s cock in his mouth, swallowing him deep in one go.

“God, Merlin, yes.” Arthur groaned and thrust up into Merlin’s mouth, coming with one more twist of Merlin’s fingers inside of him. He slumped back into the bed, chest heaving with his breath as Merlin’s tongue worked over his sensitive, softening flesh, his fingers slipping out of Arthur’s body just before it was about to become too much.

Arthur tugged Merlin up to him and kissed him on the corner of the mouth, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Why, Merlin, You’ve become filthy without me,” Arthur said, sounded teasing and sated all at once.

Merlin grinned, wiping the back of his hand over his glistening mouth. “I prefer to think of it as ‘creative’.”

“Well, whatever it is, never change.” Arthur flicked off the bedside light, pulled Merlin close and tugged the covers up over them. Merlin’s eyes were already falling closed as Arthur rubbed his nose through Merlin’s hair, murmuring “Love you” against his skin.

Merlin smiled sleepily, and replied, “love you too,” his mind blissfully empty for the first time in weeks, before falling asleep.

 

Both Merlin and Arthur spent the next few days dancing around the subject of Mordred and their upcoming meeting, trying not to dwell too much when there was just so much they couldn’t know, and no amount of talking about it would make any difference. When Lance finally called and said that Mordred was free to meet with them the next night, Merlin’s mouth went a bit dry, but he was ready this time. He’d had enough time to think about everything, to sort it out as much as he could in his own, and more than anything, he trusted Arthur.

They all sat in their regular booth at Elyan’s pub, Merlin tracing designs in the condensation on his pint glass as Gwaine, Percy and Leon talked animatedly about the football game they’d watched the night before, and Arthur sat next to him fiddling with Merlin’s phone. That was Arthur’s current project, and though his fingers had been clumsy on the touch-screen in the beginning, his tongue poking out through his lips as he tried to make it work, Merlin was pretty impressed with how quickly he’d picked it up. Arthur swore under his breath, and Merlin looked down to see that Arthur had failed a level in Candy Crush, not for the first time judging by the way he frowned.

“Having a hard time there?” Merlin propped his chin on Arthur’s shoulder, sliding closer to him on the bench.

Arthur scowled back at him, gesturing at the phone. “Why did you give me this infernal thing? It’s making me crazy.”

Merlin laughed, taking the phone from Arthur and shoving it in his pocket. “You asked to learn how to use it. I never told you to start playing that game, blame Gwaine for that one.”

“I’m on level 178! I’m basically a star.” Gwaine puffed out his chest, polishing his fingernails on his shirt.

Arthur tried to glower, but his mouth twitched and he started laughing, and soon the whole table was chuckling, loud enough that they didn’t notice when Lance and Mordred walked up, standing a bit awkwardly at the end of the table.

“Um, hope we’re not interrupting anything.” Mordred hovered, toying with the cuffs of his sleeves, even as Lance pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Mordred, hello. Sit down, please.” Arthur cleared his throat and gave Mordred a restrained smile, gesturing to the last chair around their table. 

Mordred straightened his shirt once more and settled into the chair, looking around the table. “I feel I should introduce myself to everyone, even though...” He laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his disheveled curls. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say here.”

Merlin cast his eyes around the table, from Gwaine’s tight mouth, to Percy’s clenched fists, and Leon’s carefully neutral expression, looking every bit the knight. He caught a glimpse of Elyan, still behind the bar but with his eyes fixed on their table, drying a glass that didn’t look the least bit wet. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, digging his teeth into it for a moment before taking a deep breath. “You’re not _supposed_ to say anything, Mordred. Just...say whatever you feel you need to.” He reached out and grabbed a pint, shoving it over towards Mordred with a tight smile. “Here, you look like you need this.”

Mordred took a deep, grateful swallow, wiping his hand over his mouth. He tried to smile, but it looked more than a bit pained. “Thank you.” He took a breath and looked around the table once more, before settling for looking deep into his glass. “More than anything, I want to apologize. I already have to Merlin and Arthur, but, I need to apologize to the rest of you as well.”

Gwaine huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, but Arthur shot him a look that kept him quiet.

“If you can’t forgive me, I understand. I don’t know that I would forgive me if I were any of you.” Mordred looked up, locking eyes with each of them in turn. “But it means a great deal to me that you’ve even come here tonight, to let me say my piece. And I truly am so, so sorry. When I became a knight of Camelot, it was because I truly believed in Arthur as a king, and I wanted to be a part of it. What happened...there is nothing I regret more than leaving when I did, and joining Morgana. Breaking your trust.”

Mordred eyes were wide and watery, and his hands were shaking a bit as he took another drink of his pint. Merlin studied his face, searching those eyes for any sign that they were being played, but he couldn’t see anything, and he almost wanted to.

“So what is it that you want? We’re not exactly knights anymore, but do you want to be _friends_ again?” Leon’s voice was calm and measured, his eyebrows quirked in a question.

“I would never ask that, or expect that of you. You’ve already done more than I would have thought.” Mordred paused, looking down at his hands. “But since I remembered, since I saw Arthur and everything’s been coming back to me, I’ve been having dreams about those days. About travelling and training, and befriending you all. And I miss it. So much it actually hurts. I thought I had friends here and now, but everything pales in comparison to the memories.”

There was a long moment of silence, like they were all holding their breath. Merlin was surprised when Gwaine was the one to break the silence, flipping his gaze from Mordred to Percy. “I think that’s something we can all relate to. Nothing like the knights of Camelot.”

The tension in the air began to evaporate a bit after that. It wasn’t completely gone, and maybe it never would be, but everyone relaxed back into their seats a little, harsh lines of their faces softening. As if he’d been summoned, Elyan pushed over to their table with a tray of pints in his hands, and a careful smile on his face.

“How’re we doing over here, then?” He set the beer down and rested his hands on Lance’s shoulders, making eye contact with everyone, one at a time. Merlin always felt calmer around Elyan, something about him just made everything seem warmer and more _okay_ , no matter what.

“I think we’re good, actually.” Arthur smiled, and Merlin knew they were having a conversation with their eyes that consisted of many more words than Arthur had actually said.

“Glad to hear it.” Elyan smiled, warmer now, locking eyes with Mordred and giving him a little nod. “I’d better get back to work, but you know where to find me if you need anything.”

Once everyone had fresh glasses in front of them, the silence gradually gave way to conversation. Merlin wouldn’t call it friendly, but it was definitely polite. Mordred asked them all about their work, and how they’d met each other in this life, laughing heartily when Lance once again told the story of how he’d met Gwaine, trying to stop him from dancing on a gurney. He looked down into his glass again, his mouth turning down and his eyes tearing up when Merlin told him about Arthur’s return, and the events since.

“Mordred, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Arthur asked sincerely, after a lull in the conversation. “We really only know what we’ve seen on television. In this life, anyways.”

Mordred smiled a thin smile, and took a long swallow of his pint. “There’s really not much to tell. My father was in politics, and so that was always where my life was heading. I studied business in school, among other things, and as soon as I was able, my name was on a ballot.” He shrugged, wrapping his hands around his glass. “I’ve never really thought about it before, but I suppose it’s like my life was on a track, just moving forward without me pushing it. This feels like a detour.”

“Hopefully a welcome detour.” Arthur smiled, tilting his head.

“Yes, yes, very welcome,” Mordred nodded eagerly. “And I mean that. I feel...clear for the first time. Like I can make my own decisions, not the ones I’m told to make.”

Mordred looked so hopeful and earnest, it made Merlin’s heart flip-flop in his chest a little. He couldn’t decide if Mordred making his own decisions was what they wanted or not. 

“Which...brings me to something I wanted to ask Arthur,” Mordred continued, briefly looking at Lance who nodded for him to continue.

After closing his eyes and visibly steeling himself, Mordred continued. “According to the polls, it’s looking like I might actually win this election.” There was a small smile on Mordred’s face, one of disbelieving pride. “And I was thinking, I’m going to need someone to keep me moving in the right direction, make sure I make the right choices. I have all kinds of political advisors, but I need...another kind of advisor.”

He looked right at Arthur then, locking him with his gaze, his eyes almost pleading. “You know more about me and what I’ve done than anyone ever could. I can’t think of anyone better to stand behind me, making sure I don’t....” He trailed off then, but he didn’t need to finish. Arthur was nodding, his brow furrowed just a little.

“Mordred, that’s...that’s a lot to take in. I appreciate you asking, that you think I could...do that.” Arthur looked around the table, stopping at Merlin. “I think we need some time to talk about this before I decide. Can I get back to you in a few days?”

“Yes, yes of course. Lance has my number, just give me a call.” Mordred drained his glass, coughing a little. “I think I’m going to head home, if that’s alright with everyone. I think you have some things to talk about, anyway.” He smiled a bit wryly, and Merlin couldn’t say he was wrong. They all well knew what the topic of conversation was going to be when Mordred stepped away from the table. He bid goodbye to everyone at the table, slightly less awkward than his hello, pausing to speak quietly into Lance’s ear before shouldering his way through the crowded bar, towards the door.

They watched him go, silently, and for the first time that evening Merlin realized just how crowded the bar actually was. All night it had felt like they were alone, like their conversation was too important for normal things to be happening around them, and he shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Well, that wasn’t how I expected that to go.” Gwaine spoke first, sounded honestly surprised.

“What were you expecting?” Lance leaned onto the table, resting his chin on his hand. He’d been quiet tonight, and maybe somewhat belatedly, Merlin realized they might have put him in a kind of awkward position.

Gwaine shrugged, grinning. “Not sure, but it’s been awhile since I’ve been in a good pub brawl.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, long-suffering but fond, in Gwaine’s direction. “I don’t think we’ll be needing any of that.” He paused, wrapping his hands around his glass. “Lance, can you go see if Elyan’s free? I think we should all talk about this while it’s fresh.” Lance nodded and headed over to the bar, leaning across it to wave Elyan over, gesturing towards the table.

Elyan was drying his hands on a towel as he walked over with Lance, settling down into Mordred’s abandoned chair. “So what happened?”

“Short version: Mordred asked Arthur to work for him.” Gwaine huffed a little, and Percy squeezed his shoulder, giving him a look that make Gwaine press his lips together.

“Well, what’s the long version then?” Elyan raised his brows, resting his elbows on the table to lean in.

Arthur ran through what Mordred had said, both about his life and about what he’d proposed. Merlin listened closely as Arthur told it, trying to tell if Arthur was already leaning in one way or the other, but Arthur’s voice was neutral, as it always was in strategy meetings.

Elyan sat back in his chair when Arthur was done, letting out a low whistle. “Wow. What are you going to do?”

Arthur shook his head. “I know what I think, but I want to hear from you all. Lance, you’ve been working with him. What do you think?”

“I think it would be a good idea, honestly. I’ve never seen anything other than honesty from Mordred, and he clearly means well, but...there are some people on his team who maybe don’t mean as well, and want to use him. He’s smart, Arthur, but he’s naive, doesn’t necessarily see his advisors for what they are.” Lance leaned in, his face serious. “Arthur, he’s almost certainly going to get elected. If you’ve truly come back to have some influence in his life, what better way than from the inside, as someone he trusts?”

Arthur nodded, steepling his fingers and putting them against his lips. “Excellent points. Merlin, what about you?”

Merlin was quiet for a moment, his stomach flip-flopping as he tried to get his thoughts in order. He wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur that Mordred was trouble and they should stay as far away from him as possible, remembering the moment he watched the light go out of Arthur’s eyes all over again. But he also could still see Mordred’s wet, earnest eyes, the way his fingers fidgeted as he asked Arthur to help him, and the answer was obvious. Hard to say out loud, but obvious. “I agree with Lance.” Gwaine’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Merlin with disbelief. “I know, I know. I don’t want to agree, believe me. But...he’s convinced me that, for the moment anyways, he means well. And like Lance said, it’s better to be on the inside, if anything does happen.”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s thigh, smiling at him, before turning back to the table. “Does anyone else want to say anything? Gwaine, I know you disagree, why?”

Gwaine shrugged. “I guess it’s more of a feeling than anything. Why get closer to a man who’s killed you before? It seems a bit backwards to me.” He sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. “And I do see the other side of it; he sounded sincere, and I don’t think Lance would misjudge him that much. But you know I stand behind you in anything, Arthur. Even if I don’t agree.”

A murmur of agreement went around the table, and Arthur finally sat back, slumping back against his seat. “Thank you, all of you. Your opinions mean a lot to me, I’m glad I don’t have to make decisions like this alone.” He smiled, lifting an arm to drape it around Merlin’s shoulders. “I think I’m ready for bed though, have a lot to think about before I call Mordred. What do you say we call it a night?”

Everyone nodded, giving soft goodnights and strong embraces, hanging on just a bit longer than usual. Merlin and Arthur hailed a taxi and rode home in near silence, Arthur drawing absent patterns on Merlin’s thigh as they watched the lights go by out the window. It wasn’t until they were home and in bed, Arthur curled around Merlin’s back, nose buried in his hair that he spoke about it, voice soft even though they were alone.

“Do you really think I should do it? Your opinion matters more to me than anyone else.”

Merlin spun around in Arthur’s arms, just barely able to make out his face in the dim light filtering in through the curtains. “I do. I’ve been thinking about it, a lot. Maybe too much. But if you think you’ve come back to stop Mordred from becoming the kind of person who could kill you, then you have to try.”

Arthur kissed Merlin’s forehead softly, running his hand down his back. “I think I came back to find you. But Mordred, keeping him on the right path, that’s just a bonus.”

Merlin grinned, spreading a hand out wide on Arthur’s chest. “Cheesy.”

“You love it.” Merlin could feel Arthur’s grin against his forehead, and he leaned into it.

“Yeah, I do.” He pressed a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips, then turned around again, pulling Arthur’s arm around his waist. They had decisions to make tomorrow, but for now, all they had to do was sleep.

 

The next morning, Merlin woke up earlier than usual, but not early enough to beat Arthur. He padded sleepily out to the kitchen and found Arthur already sitting there, bathed in early morning light, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, a second one sitting at Merlin’s chair. Merlin smiled and walked over, sitting down and reaching for his tea.

“Morning.” Merlin sipped his tea and sighed deeply. Arthur always made him the perfect cup.

Arthur smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Morning.”

“You’re up early. Thinking?” 

Arthur nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “Thinking, and then deciding.”

Merlin’s heart did a little flip in his chest. “Are you going to take Mordred up on his offer then?”

“I am. It just feels right.” Arthur reached across the table and twined his fingers together with Merlin’s. “You with me?”

“A few weeks ago, I might not have been, but now...I am. I think it’s the right choice.” He squeezed Arthur’s hand, and realized just how truthful he was being. He really feel about as at peace with the decision as he imagined he could, when the decision involved Mordred.

“Good, because I don’t think I could go ahead with it without you standing by me. I’m better when you’re by my side.” Arthur’s voice was so sure and fond, Merlin felt a little choked up, looking down into his mug for a moment.

“Well, I had to do without you for so long, you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me now.” Merlin could hear the thickness in his voice, underneath the lightness, but Arthur just smiled, wrapping a hand around the back of Merlin’s neck and pulling him in, kissing him slowly.

When he pulled away his eyes were soft, and his fingers played through the short hairs at the base of Merlin’s neck. “Good thing I don’t want to be rid of you.”

Merlin smiled, sighing a bit and leaning back into Arthur’s touch. “What do you say we shower, and then make some phone calls? May as well call Mordred before we change our minds.”

Arthur stood, pulling Merlin up with him. “Only if you shower with me.” The grin on his face was hungry, but just silly enough that it made Merlin laugh, even as he let Arthur pull him down the hall towards the bathroom.

Later, Merlin was humming as he stirred eggs, attempting to make omelettes for breakfast. His omelettes usually turned into ugly piles of eggs and cheese but they always tasted good, so he figured it didn’t matter. Arthur was walking circles around the living room behind him, phone pressed to his ear, talking to Mordred, trying to nail down details. Merlin couldn’t help eavesdropping, even though he knew Arthur would tell him everything as soon as he was off the phone.

“Great, so I’ll come down to your office tomorrow morning, and we can get everything settled.” Arthur paused, nodding, lips quirking up in a half-smile. “Yeah, I think I can get him to come along too. See you then, Mordred.”

“Everything okay?” Merlin turned to the table, sliding half the egg mess onto Arthur’s plate and half onto his own. 

Arthur nodded again, putting the phone back in its cradle. “Seems to be. He just wants us to come down to the campaign office so I can sign some papers, make everything official.” He sat down and scooped up a big forkful of eggs, shoving it into his mouth and chewing.

“Will Lance be there? Just to make sure everything is...alright? With the paperwork?” Merlin poured himself a glass of orange juice, taking a sip of it.

“He will be, I made sure.” Arthur took the juice Merlin offered him, taking a sip. “And we’ll read over everything he gives us before we sign anything. Twice. Besides, I know you won’t let me sign anything that has any room for error in it. That’s why I have you, keep me from doing stupid things.”

Merlin smiled fondly, cocking his head to the side and sitting down at the table. “You’re such a romantic, Arthur Pendragon.” As if to prove it, Arthur gave him a wide, eggy smile, and Merlin reached out to punch him lightly on the shoulder before tucking into his own breakfast.

 

**_A few months later - Election Night_**

Mordred’s campaign headquarters were packed, and the crowd around them was already loud, even as they all waited anxiously for the final results of the election to trickle in. Some people were chanting, others were holding their breaths, even though Mordred had been ahead for hours; for months, in unofficial polls. Merlin was standing right in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by Gwaine, Percy, Lance, Elyan and Leon, little plastic cups of champagne clutched in their hands, hoping they’d get to drink it in celebration. They’d set up a little stage at the front of the room, and Mordred and his closest advisors were standing near the back of it, bent over their phones or eyes glued to the televisions around the room, waiting for the official announcement. Merlin could see Arthur, standing next to Mordred, his hand resting easily on Mordred’s shoulder.

The last few months had been a gradual process of learning about each other, and learning how to trust again, but now, Merlin could look at Mordred and comfortably call him a friend, he fit right in at their weekly trips to the pub, and could even hold his own at football. That didn’t mean they weren’t still watching him, making sure he stayed honest, but even Gwaine had relaxed around him, clapping him on the back whenever he scored a goal. Now, Gwaine was standing behind Merlin, hand resting comfortingly on the small of Merlin’s back. Merlin leaned back into the touch, and then turned to see Gwaine grinning at him, Percy on one side of him, Lance, Elyan and Leon on the other. Even if Merlin was nervous or worried, there was nothing safer than being flanked by his knights.

Moments later, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause as the TV screens showed Mordred rising higher and higher in the polls until there could be no doubt of the outcome. Merlin could see the moment that Mordred and his advisors found out, fists pumping into the air as they laughed and embraced, confetti raining down from the ceiling as Mordred took centre stage. He took his place in front of the microphone, eyes shining, as he waited for the crowd to die down enough for him to speak. Arthur came up behind him, smiling proudly and resting a strong hand on Mordred’s shoulder, squeezing protectively. 

Around him, the knights cheered and hollered, toasting with their champagne and clapping Merlin on the back. Merlin cheered too, clapping and lifting his fist into the air when he caught Arthur’s eye, both of them grinning so wide, it was enough to make Merlin’s cheeks ache. Over the many years Merlin had been waiting for Arthur to return, he’d imagined a thousand different scenarios. Wars, widespread disease, and some significantly more creative ideas he’d had after the advent of science fiction. The scene in front of him had never been one that occurred to him, Arthur standing behind Mordred, supporting him, but now that it was happening, it felt _right_. Arthur had come back for this, come back to help Mordred become what he was meant to be, who he was always supposed to be, before things went off track. Merlin was here with him, ready to do whatever he could to help Arthur, because even without a crown on his head, Arthur would always be king in Merlin’s eyes. Arthur caught Merlin’s gaze again across the crowded room, and brought his hand down to rest over his heart, Merlin knew that Arthur had come back for him too. And this time, Merlin wasn’t letting him go, not ever.


End file.
